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#also the woman on the phone after i said i worked at the place i currently work at was like 'and do you still work there?' SHE KNOWS
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Don't Kill My Vibe
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Title: Don’t Kill My Vibe
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.7K
Summary: You help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.
Warnings: mention of a breakup, recreational drug use (marijuana), friends-to-lovers trope, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids
A/N: This is an AU where Clark Kent is not superpowered and Superman does not exist. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.
Dividers by me
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
My Masterlist
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It wasn’t the first time Clark asked to try some bud, but it was the most pathetic. His gorgeous blue eyes were puffy from crying over that woman. As much as you wanted to say, “I told you so," you didn’t want him to feel any worse about the failed relationship with his reporter beau, Lois Lane.
And yet again, you think to yourself, ‘Fuck Lois Lane’.
When he showed up at your place an hour ago in sweatpants, sneakers, and a button-up pullover, you were surprised to see he opted for something other than his normal flannel and jeans. His hair was mussed, and he avoided eye contact with you. Something was wrong.
You dragged him into your apartment, turning down your Spotify playlist on the Bluetooth speakers so you could talk over the mellow tunes. While you flopped down on your couch, Clark sat down slowly and sighed.
You were already elevated, having taken a couple of puffs from your blue and red glass bowl earlier, so you were struggling to pay attention to everything he was saying. You tried to put on your “I’m not high” face and nod enough, saying “Oh wow” occasionally. But, in actuality, your eyes were as red as the Devil’s dick, and Clark wasn’t stupid.
His eyes looked from yours to the tray on the coffee table that held your various assortments of smoking apparatus, grinder, lighter, and stash box. Leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees, he motioned his chin toward everything and said, “I know you’ve said no a million times, but I could use an escape. And before you say no again, know I’ve tried all the tricks in the book to get over somebody, and nothing is working.” 
“I have a feeling there’s another thing you haven’t tried either, but whatever,” you rattled on, waving off his confused expression. “Fine. It should be illegal for you to use those puppy eyes when asking me for something, by the way.”
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So here you are, preparing a strawberry cone for you and Clark to share. You were always weird about people using your favorite bowl. You also figure that for a first-timer, it would be the easiest for him to start with. Twisting the end after filling the cone, you reach for the lighter and ashtray.
“First things first,” you purr, using your phone to turn the music up. “Now, watch what I do. I’m going to draw the smoke into my mouth and then hold it for a few seconds, or as long as I can, before blowing it back out. Ready?”
Clark nods as he turns toward you, tucking one leg under the other. Now that you have his full attention, you suddenly feel flustered. Casting your eyes downward, you take the cone into your mouth and light the end. You inhale deeply and take it out of your mouth. Savoring the citrus flavor of the strain, your tongue licks your lips, and you exhale. 
You close your eyes and take a few breaths. After a moment, you hear Clark’s voice breaking through your haze: “Everything good?”
Your eyes pop open, and just like nothing happened, you perk up. Handing him the cone, you blink as he holds it like someone who has never smoked. You’ve known Clark long enough that you have a suspicion that is probably true for him. 
He’s polite, almost to a fault. He screams Boy Scout, altar boy, and ‘promise ring’ all at the same time. What can you say? Clark was a good boy. And you were getting him high. You little devil! 
Clark takes a short pull from the pink-colored joint and manages to hold it for about two seconds, then attempts to exhale. A small plume escapes his mouth, he inhales sharply and has a coughing fit. You take the joint back before he drops it and sit it in the ashtray.
Rubbing his back, you try to talk him through catching his breath. You grab your water bottle and hold the straw to his mouth when he nods his thanks. He sips the water, then clears his throat loudly, burping up a bit of smoke. He laughs quickly as he sees it exit his mouth, reminding you of a little surprised dragon.
“That was fun,” he sputters, his voice deeper than usual.
“It gets easier, Clark. Trust me, coughing is normal. And most of the time, coughing gets you higher,” you laugh, picking up the joint to take another hit.
You inhale, exhaling into the air, and hold it out for Clark to take again. He sips from your water bottle and gives it to you in exchange for the joint.
Holding it between two fingers, he brings it to his lips. You watch his mouth curl around the tip, and your brain conjures up the vision of what else that boy’s mouth can do. He takes the joint out of his mouth, holding his breath for a few seconds, then blows it out slowly. He gives it back to you and leans back against the couch.
“I don’t think I feel any different yet. How long does it take to kick in?” he asks, crossing his arms and pouting.
It being his first time, he is completely unaware that he is already high. His body language is different; Clark Kent doesn’t slouch even a little. He also certainly doesn’t fidget; his hands suddenly become very interested in the material of his pullover.
“You’ll feel it sooner than you think,” you mumble, the joint between your lips as you speak.
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Twenty minutes later, Clark tells you exactly what the last straw was that ended his relationship with Lois. He pauses to take a hit, handing it back to you as he exhales. “But it was always whatever she wanted. I treat her like a queen. And she goes and blows Jimmy-fucking-Olsen. Then she lies about it after Jimmy comes clean to me. I…,” he trails off, looking over at you and shaking his head as he laughs.
“What?” you question when you realize he stops talking.
“Nothing. I just… I think I’m high,” he giggles, the corners of his eyes wrinkling when he smiles at you.
“Besides being high, can you describe how you feel?” You press, wanting to know just how high he is.
“I feel lighter. Clear…er? Is it clearer or more clear? Whatever. I think I also just figured out how I want to finish that article on The Wayne Foundation,” he explains, leaning back so he is lying on his back with his head on your lap. “Is this ok? Your lap looked so comfortable,” he wonders aloud, looking up at you.
That’s when you realize three fundamental truths at the same time. 
1. Clark is single. 
2. Clark is literally in your lap.
3. The crush you have on Clark is swiftly turning into lustful infatuation.
Bringing yourself back to the present, you smile at him and say, “Yeah, of course it’s ok.” You focus on the heat radiating from your best friend as he makes himself comfortable so close to your thirsty pussy. 
“You are the best,” he replies, closing his eyes as your hand finds its way into his curls.
“This cool?” you dare, hoping that you can continue to push the boundary between friendship and something more.
As if the groan from the back of his throat wasn’t enough, he voices his satisfaction. “More than cool. I love having my hair played with. Feel free to go to town on me.”
Oh, the importance of phrasing.
This man is not going to make it easy on you.
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You’re explaining to Clark about that episode of Bob’s Burgers where Bob and Linda accidentally get high after eating cookies laced with marijuana at their accountant’s office. “So, anyway. Bob, Linda, and the accountant build a pillow fort from the cushions on his couch, and somehow it makes them feel safer which I get because pillow forts were the height of safety when we were kids. And sometimes, people feel safer thinking about the simplicity of their childhood,” you rattle on, leaning forward to grab your water bottle and forgetting about Clark’s head, which is still very much in your lap.
An oomph is spoken into your boobs, and you shoot straight up to a standing position and knock Clark off your lap and onto the floor. 
“Shit!” he cries from his spot on the floor.
“Fuck, Clark! I’m so sorry! Are you ok?” You cringe, your hand touching your forehead as you watch him pull himself up.
“Hey, hey. It’s cool, I’m fine,” he reassures, his hand grabbing yours to take it away from your face. With the other hand, he grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger. Tilting your head up, he smiles and counters, “Are you ok?”
Yeah. Fine. My tits were just thrust into your face for a bit there. Oh, and you have no idea that I like you. And that pesky curl is falling into your pretty eyes again. And your handsome face is close enough to-
One second, you’re staring at his smile; the next second, you’re attacking his mouth with yours. His lips are just as pillowy and soft as they look. At first, the kiss is timid. Surprise gives way to need as he deepens the kiss. His tongue seeks solace as it slides against the seam of your lips. Granting him entry, he licks into your mouth like an explorer discovering new lands. 
His hands find their way to your hips, bringing you impossibly close. He feasts on every whimper that leaves you, peppering in some moans of his own. This is the kiss of a man waiting for a moment like this. At least, that’s how it feels.
Begrudgingly, you slowly break away from Clark. His kiss-swollen pink lips beg to be reunited with yours, but you must prove this is real. You look up into his dilated eyes, noting how blue is almost completely taken over by black. 
You open your mouth to speak, but Clark beats you to it.
“Unless you are about to tell me you don’t want this, please just kiss me again,” he breathes, resting his forehead against yours. “I don’t know what’s more intoxicating. This drug or having you so close to me.”
Instead of worrying about what this means, you throw caution to the wind. Tilting your head, you slot your lips with his, devouring the subtle whimper that escapes him. From nervous to commanding, you feel Clark’s demeanor change as his hands wander over your body.
He picks you up by the waist, your legs instinctually wrapping around him. With you in his arms, he walks blindly to your bedroom. Once he lays you down, he covers your body with his. The hard length against your mound gives you pause, but you quickly recover as you angle your hips to meet his.
Clark breaks the kiss to sit up and remove his pullover and shirt. A pink hue dusts his cheeks as he watches you scan his torso while you bite your lip. Leaning down, he tugs at the hem of your shirt, wanting you to get rid of it. 
You oblige, now topless in front of your best friend for the first time. You don’t have time to freak out over that information because Clark hooks his fingers in your leggings, his eyes begging for permission. You raise your hips, and he pulls them down your legs along with your underwear. 
You sit up as he chucks his sweatpants, his heavy erection now visible. Your first thought is, “Now that is a pretty dick.”
“Thank you,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.
“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” You wonder aloud, already knowing the answer.
Clark smiles, nodding at you before coaxing you to lay back. He sinks between your legs, holding them open to kiss your thighs. He teases you a bit, licking and nipping at your mound and outer labia until you wiggle your hips and whine. 
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Patience, please,” he cautions, shaking his head at you. He winks at you, diving fully into your snatch and sucking your clit between his lips. 
You throw your head back in ecstasy as his tongue slides over your swollen button. Humming while sucking on your nub is a fucking power move, and your hands tangle in his hair. You dig your heels into his back as he laps up the juices that accumulate at your entrance. Looking down at him as he worships at the altar of your body, you are taken aback as he peeks up at you over your mound.
With your eyes locked on each other, he watches as he tips you right over the edge. He groans into your pussy, his mouth and chin soaked, as your walls contract around nothing. The euphoria of being high mixes with the joy of being with someone new for the first time.
But this isn’t just anybody; this was your best friend. Warmth and comfort exist between you, allowing you to feel safe enough to fall and that Clark will catch you.
You come down as he plants a kiss on your mound, grazing his lips up your tummy. When he is back above your face, he runs the tip of his dick across your wet folds. He maintains eye contact while he slides in for the first time. 
Once he is fully seated inside you, he lets you adjust to his size before he withdraws slightly and thrusts forward. The wet squelch of your pussy and the smack of your bodies against one another are music to your ears. Clark’s grunts as he fucks into you only fuel your impending second climax.
“Fuck, you feel so good. Too good. Not going to last long,” he warns, sitting up on his knees as his hands go to your waist. Throwing his head back, he growls and picks up the pace, using your body like his personal fucktoy.
Your back arches as he repeatedly hits that hidden bundle of nerves. A searing fire erupts in your belly as your cunt clamps down on his dick, spasming and coating it with your cream.
“Good girl! That’s it. Fucking come for me, just like that,” he encourages. “Oh, shit. I’m right fucking behind you. Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuuuck.”
You lock your legs around his waist, keeping him right where he is as his dick spasms and fills you to the brim. Your hands smooth down his big chest, feeling the muscles ripple as he comes down from what is probably the most intense orgasm he has ever felt. He stills soon enough, breathing back to normal as his softening length slips from you.
Flopping down next to you, Clark wraps an arm around you. You curl into his side, an arm across his stomach, and a leg thrown over his. Contented silence fills the room as you both take in this unforeseen turn of events.
Clark’s hand makes idle patterns on your back as you lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You close your eyes for only a moment, missing Clark smiling at you. He gives you a quick peck on the top of your head, causing you to tilt your head to meet his eyes.
“You hungry?” you guess, feeling a bit peckish yourself.
“Yes!” he exclaims.
“Good. I know a great place down the street that makes the best samosas. Does Indian food sound good?” you ask, already tasting the rich spices of the food.
“Sounds perfect,” he says, picking up his arm to let you get up from the bed to grab your phone, watching your hips sway as you walk out to the other room.
Once back in bed, you order various dishes for the both of you. While you wait for the food, you pass a joint back and forth and steal a kiss or two. You decide there is plenty of time for you and Clark to talk. There is no use in killing the vibe for heavy stuff.
With the way Clark is looking at you, there’s not much to talk about anyway. 
🍃The End🍃
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hella1975 · 1 year
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bagged a trial shift at a new pub just for my manager to immediately put on facebook if anyone wants an extra shift on wednesday. he knows what im doing
#he said GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE RN#lmfaoooo the notif came through literally as i put the phone down i was like 😳😳😳#like that 'CONNOR' tiktok audio like no king im not doing anythinggg haha wdym#anyway im a bit annoyed that the first place to get back to me from my applications was this one#bc im pretty sure their pay is still minimum wage and also my cousin worked a trial shift there once#and not only did they not pay him but they also never called him back or even emailed to politely turn him down#literally just used him for free labour and that was that#word of warning from a very tired waitress if ur thinking about starting: always take trial shifts with a pinch of salt#if the trial shift is longer than 2 hours they really really should be paying you and if they dont the odds are you got mugged off#also the woman on the phone after i said i worked at the place i currently work at was like 'and do you still work there?' SHE KNOWS#and when i said yes she was like 'would you be willing to leave?' HOW CAN I BE TWO-TIMING BOTH OF YOU RN#LYING TO ONE JOB ABOUT SEEKING ANOTHER JOB LYING TO THE NEW JOB ABOUT LEAVING THE OLD ONE COME ON NOW#IM NOT BUILT FOR THESE LAYERS#but yeah summary here is i have a shift at my actual place on wednesday (thank god i havent had work in over a fucking WEEK)#and i have a trial shift at a new place where i'll most likely be offered a job. life is picking up#ALSO i have enough money to change my america flights bc basically something came up with that and i need to change my return flight#and i was originally rlly worried bc the change cost was £161 and that piled onto my current no-shifts stress was Not Fun#but ive been working a lot for my mum and i got paid for the shifts i HAVE done and it all kinda fell together anyway#the way everything is sorting itself today within the same HOUR yet ive been stressing about these things for days now#hella goes home#hella slaves to capitalism
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How I got scammed
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security
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I wuz robbed.
More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!
Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).
A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.
That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).
I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.
"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"
He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.
We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.
I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.
One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.
"That was the fraudster," she said.
Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.
Wait a sec.
He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.
I'd given him my entire card number.
Goddammit.
The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle
And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.
But I'd been conned.
Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:
https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/
That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.
Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.
I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.
Oh, shit, I'd been phished.
If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).
There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!
The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.
The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.
The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.
The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.
There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.
I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.
Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.
One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week
I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.
As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.
This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:
https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591
This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.
I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.
This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.
On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.
So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.
Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security
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Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg
CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en
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sweetbuckybarnes · 4 months
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Who is This? - Bucky x Reader
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Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: Bucky had a wife during the 40s, she was left heartbroken after the telegram arrived (missing, presumed dead). It's surprising when 80 years later, she was working behind a bar in Madripoor of all places!
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Bucky followed Sam and Zemo into a loud bar, he immediately wanted to turn around and go home, why had Zemo demanded he go back to being the Winter Soldier (even if it was one night)?
The sound of heavy drums and guitars also deafened his hearing, a song he had come to learn was The Wild Boy by a band called Duran Duran. A few bartenders and waitresses were walking around, there was only one who stuck out to him - a dark-haired young woman who reminded him too much of his departed wife.
His heart breaks even more, thinking of the woman he had left behind, his girl. The love of his life. Bucky doesn't think he will ever 'get over' her.
The way the young woman walked, carrying a tray of empty glasses (before being tossed an empty bottle by a patron), was so similar to the way his girl walked in the hole-in-the-wall diner she worked in.
She wasn't quick enough to duck under the bar before they got to the door leading upstairs (which was coincidentally next to the bar), Zemo was talking to the bouncer. "Excuse me, gentlemen," the young woman said, squeezing between the back of Zemo and the front of Bucky. Which is when he got a good look at her face.
There she was.
His girl. His wife.
He couldn't even say anything to her, as he was taken upstairs and away from his girl. He could only hope he would be allowed back in at the end of the night to see her.
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Y/N Barnes made her way behind the bar, glancing up at the TV where the Kansas City Chiefs were currently playing the Buffalo Bills at Arrowhead Stadium, then down at her phone which showed the live score of the Dodgers game against the San Francisco Giants.
She had been a long-time Dodgers girl, even after she found out they had moved from Brooklyn to Los Angeles.
"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" Yasmine asked, pushing a dry Martini in front of a 26-year-old woman.
Y/N looked up from the glasses she was putting in the dishwasher. "Huh? What are you talking about?"
"One of the men who went upstairs. The way he was looking at you," Yasmine fans her hand for dramatic effect. "I would drop my panties for him in a millisecond."
"Like you don't do that every night."
Yasmine rolled her eyes and served the next half-drunk who had come to the bar.
"Don't listen to her," Anastasia told her, rolling her eyes as Yasmine flirted with her current flavour of the week.
"It's not often I do, darling," Y/N replied, fiddling with Anastasia's curls for a second, before spotting a patron. "What can I get for you, darling?"
He hung off the bar, obviously far too drunk to understand what was going on. "Another beer and your phone number," he slurred.
She shook her head, reaching over and grabbing him another beer. As far as the boss of the bar (whoever that was) was concerned unless they were unconscious- why should you stop serving them? Y/N thought it wasn't right, but no matter how often she voiced this - she was shut down.
She set the beer in front of him and then went to the register to add it to his bill (good thing she currently has his credit card behind the bar).
"Oi, sweet cheeks!" He calls, but Y/N doesn't pay attention looking over at Yasmine and Anastasia with a raised eyebrow. "Sweet cheeks! I asked for your number."
Y/N replied by simply raising her hand proudly displaying her engagement and wedding rings to the drunk. It was only a small diamond (given Bucky worked on the docks before he was deployed), and the plain band she inherited from her great-grandmother.
"What's the matter with that 'un?" He hiccups. "He got you costume jewellery or somethin'?"
Y/N shook her head. "I'm going into the back for a moment," she tells Aidan.
Little did the drunk patron know, all those years ago, this was the date she was handed the telegraph - putting in such blunt words. Her James was missing, they presumed him to be dead. It breaks her heart that they never got to have a proper funeral.
"You alright, honey?" Elizabeth (another one of the waitresses) asked, she had been outside on her break. Elizabeth was the only one who knew her true age and about her James.
"It's the day I found out James was missing," Y/N said, before bursting into more tears.
Elizabeth wrapped Y/N up in a hug, everyone oblivious to the fact that Y/N's presumed dead husband was now running through the bar, flocked by Sam and Zemo, and into the alley behind the bar.
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When Bucky was sure Zemo, Sam and Sharon were asleep, he slipped out of the safe house and into the night - determined to find out if the woman he saw in the bar was that of his (presumably? should be?) dead wife.
He eventually made his way to the front door of the bar, the bouncers had long since gone home. He could see lights on in the building and just about make out words being spoken thanks to the Super Soldier serum running through his veins.
He grasped the handle and gave it a push, the door hadn't been locked, as it gave beneath the slight push.
He could see three young women sitting on the bar, a man who was counting the money from the register and another man who was dancing.
The young woman sitting closest to the bar, had golden curls hanging around her head. "Mark, you didn't lock the door!"
The man dancing, Mark, looked over at Bucky, eyes widening when he saw the size of Bucky. "I say we just serve him, then lock the door behind him."
As the bartenders and waitress argued amongst themselves, Bucky's eyes never left the woman in the middle. It looked as if she had been crying. "Babydoll?"
The woman stopped giggling, tipping her head back to normal and looked at him, before dropping her glass as tears welled up in her eyes. "James?"
The curly-haired woman gasped, setting her glass down and giving Y/N a push off the bar.
Bucky held his arms out to catch her as her feet landed on the floor. He couldn't stop looking at her big eyes, he'd always loved her big expressive eyes. He always knew how she was feeling by just a look in her eyes.
"James? Is that you?" Her hand came out slowly, and shakily, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing in front of her.
"Hi, babydoll," Bucky smiled, tears starting to fall down his cheeks, a heavy sob held tightly in his chest at the moment in time. As soon as her fingers met his skin, Bucky let out a heavy sigh of relief, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. Y/N's arms dug themselves away from his chest and up around his neck before her hand soon started fiddling with his hair.
The couple stood there for a moment, finally finding their slice of peace. Some came barging into the bar, and the dark-haired woman who had been sitting on the other side of Y/N practically demanded Mark lock the door before the Hounds of Baskerville came in.
Y/N was so happy to finally have her James back in her arms, but there was a whirling sound she couldn't let go. "What's that noise?"
Bucky looked from his wife to his arm and back to his bride. "I'll explain everything to you later, but... I lost my arm, and I now have a prosthetic one," he tells her, letting go of her for a moment so he could take his glove off and show her the black and gold Vibranium one he had made.
"Ok, James. It's a good thing you gave me this," she reached beneath her top and pulled a ring out from beneath, hanging from a chain. "Before you were deployed."
Bucky smiled, cupping her face so he could kiss her. Bucky pulled away chuckling a little. "Babydoll, will you please put my ring back on?"
She reached behind her to unclasp the chain, and slid Bucky's band off, "if it doesn't fit we'll get it resized."
"I don't care what size it is, as long as you put my ring back where it belongs," Bucky almost growled, a piece of him falling back into place with the ring back on his finger.
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The next morning - Sam, Zemo and Sharon came into the living room, seeing Bucky sleeping on the sofa (Sam was expecting this, after being told by Steve), however, there was a lump lying next to Bucky they didn't recognise.
Sam slowly makes his way over, gently easing down the thick blanket lying over Bucky and the lump.
Lying there, practically on top of the 'bionic staring machine' was a young woman.
"Did he somehow pick up a girl?" Sam whispered. Sam and Sharon were trying to be quiet - however, Zemo (who didn't care) started clattering around the kitchen, causing Bucky to wake up in a start, which then caused the young woman to look up with tired owl-like eyes.
"What the hell is going on?" Bucky nearly demanded, keeping his arms wrapped around his companion.
Sam raised his eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question, Barnes?" Sam looked at the young woman in Bucky's arms. "Who is this?"
Bucky looked down at her, Sam watched as a smile grew on his face. "This is Y/N. Y/N Barnes. My wife."
3K notes · View notes
gyuswhore · 6 months
Text
Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (2)
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«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»
PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader
SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.
or;
in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.
GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (in part 2) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.
PLAYLIST: right here!
WORD COUNT (full fic): 40k (im actually embarrassed)
Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k
masterlist
WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut, making out, breast play, fingering (f. receiving), p in v sex (protected + unprotected), oral (f. receiving) uhhhh i think that's it lmk tho
[A/N]: Part 2 !! shit goes down in this one so be prepared ig lmao. thank you for the love on part 1, i hope you enjoy the finale too hehe
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For the third time this week, you wish you could squeeze your brother’s brains with your own two hands and watch it explode like a grape without legal repercussions. Or parental ones. 
You slam your phone down on the counter after you end your conversation with him, frustrated as you watch the empty shelf where you left your dinner for today in the fridge last night, and the other green box that was actually your brothers. Refusing to eat the dry PB&J he usually packs for himself, you slam the fridge door shut, trudging out the door to leave for work, thoroughly annoyed at the prospect of needing to eat out. 
It’s gone forgotten for most of the day, that is until the clock hits eight and you feel your stomach grumble, immediately putting you in a sour mood as you remember you couldn’t enjoy your pasta because your brother was enjoying your pasta. You only had another hour left, supposing you could wait till you get home to make dinner yourself, not feeling the burger joint across the street in the slightest. Eating a moonpie to satiate yourself for the time being, you go back to stocking the shelves for the new LP shipment, making a vague mental note to ask Mingyu if Jia liked the gift he picked out a couple weeks ago. 
Your opportunity arises almost automatically as you walk over to greet whoever came in, abandoning the opened box of bubble wrapped LPs as you hear the bell chime softly at the front of the store.  
Mingyu was here (again), hands occupied with a bag, looking relieved to find you emerging from the shelves. 
“Oh, you’re here. I was afraid you left already,” he says, smiling slightly. 
“Would’ve been closed if I did.” You nudge your head towards the clearly unlocked door, donning the neon open sign. 
He looks a little dumb, turning to look at the door. “Oh. Right.”
You can’t help but smile a little. “Caught me at a good time though, I was just about to start wrapping up here.” 
He suddenly looks like he’s reminded of what he’s come here for, placing the bag on the desk next to him. “Seok told me to drop this off for you, he said it’s food.” 
Snorting, you take a look at the inside to find takeout from your favourite pasta place, which also happens to be your most expensive favourite pasta place. Seokmin felt bad enough to spend extra dollars on your dinner tonight, you guessed you could forgive him. 
You sigh as you speak. “And you strike as his errand boy yet again, sorry he’s been making you do all this.” 
“Did he piss you off?” Mingyu asks.
“Hm? He’s been pissing me off all week, this is him trying to get on my good side before I spit in his coffee.” 
He laughs at that, a toothy smile that has your stomach lurching. The flashback was brief but vivid all the same, his grin triggering a long forgotten memory. You could almost see the black studs in his ears again, his bangs falling in chunks on his forehead, his face turning into the boyish sixteen year old recollection on your kitchen counter, drinking cans of Monster and helping you lie to your mom. 
“Explains why he was ready to drop that much on a bowl of pasta.” 
“Hey, it’s good.” 
“I don’t doubt it.” He grins, “I’m gonna leave your pasta in your loving embrace, I have to feed my car now. Been putting it off till payday.”
“Oh, right. Thanks for dropping this off though, appreciate it.” You offer him a tight lipped smile. One that he returns, canines almost glinting in the light (but that’s just you). 
“No worries, I’ll see ya around.” You don’t remember what you were meant to ask him until he’s long jingled the glass door shut, walking to his parked car. You supposed it could wait, Jia would’ve liked anything he got her. You could ask him later, not wanting to have him turn around to answer the obvious question. 
The opportunity does not arise as easily as it did this time, a couple weeks passing in relative uneventful indifference, slow days at the store and nights in seven days a week. You were starting to wish you’d taken summer classes while you were stuck here anyway, the mundane days pushing you to believe you’d rather be busy than inexplicably bored. It’s not until your brother has a near mental breakdown from only having a sister as his main recreational contact that there’s a change. 
Mingyu sits on your couches in the dark, useless blanket thrown over his torso as both of his sock clad feet hang out in the air. To be fair, nobody’s looking at anybody as the eyes remain on yet another unnecessary explosion on the screen. You vaguely wonder how the ship hasn’t sunk yet. 
“What the fuck do you mean he’s been alive this whole time?” Seokmin utters, voice thick with the entire stick of butter he stuck into his bowl of popcorn. 
“Who funded this?” Mingyu mumbles from the other end, a deep frown etched on his face. 
“The people who funded the other three monstrosities.” You roll your eyes, inching your way into a sitting position, the ache making its way into the crick of your neck. 
“There’s more?!” The prospect had Mingyu hurtling into a sitting position, but not without his own set of winces as he feels the bones cracking and muscles aching. His hair is a mess, his hoodie nearly backwards, and you can’t help but laugh at the mildly confused and bewildered expression he has on. 
“Yeah, you wanna watch those too?” you ask through giggles.
Glancing at the final pub scene that’s playing on the TV, he's quick to mumble, “Fuck, no.” 
“I haven’t watched a real shitty movie in a while.” Seokmin groans as it’s his turn to stretch. “This was fun. Hollywood’s back.” 
Both you and Mingyu pointedly ignore his statement, your own mind debating whether you wanted to watch another movie. It’s not until you look up to see Mingyu doing something on his phone that you remember what you wanted to ask him. 
“Hey, Mingyu, did — Seokmin!” Your brother’s decided to begin his aerial stretches, touching his toes and cracking his back. You shift your head wildly to get a gap through his restless movements, eventually giving up finding Mingyu. He could hear you. “Did you – ugh – did you get to give Jia her present?” 
You aren’t sure what it is, but the way the question has Seok landing on his heels mid tip toe stretch and how Mingyu’s eyebrows shoot up, you don’t doubt you’ve touched on something sensitive. There’s a part of you that wonders if it’s too late to take it back when both boys make eye contact with each other, but your brother beats you to it. 
“I, uh…forgot to tell her,” he lowtones. 
You look to your brother and then to Mingyu. 
“We broke up.”
Oh.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Mingyu smiles a little awkwardly, and Seok makes a strangled sound that may have been a laugh of his own. Or a cough, you aren’t too sure. “But…she did like the present, when I gave it to her anyway.”
“Oh, that’s…that’s good,” you manage, not knowing what to say. “Sorry that happened though…sucks.” 
“She ended it–” that has your own brows shooting up in disbelief. Kim Mingyu got dumped? “–over the phone, she decided she wanted to stay home for a while to figure out what she wanted to do. Uni wasn’t cutting it for her here…” 
“I mean, good for her, I guess. Hope you’re doing okay, though.”
He blows air out of his cheeks, scratching his neck. “I mean, we’re fine. Ended it on good terms.” 
Seokmin’s still standing awkwardly staring at the still running ending credits for something to do. “Should we get food?” 
“I don’t know, are you hungry?” Mingyu asks.
“How is the heartburn not getting to you yet? You basically emptied the country’s dairy reserves in a single popcorn serving,” you grumble. 
“Don’t underestimate my ingestional abilities,” he retorts.
Mingyu stares for a moment. “Aren’t you lactose intoletrant or something?”
Seokmin turns to him, mouth open as he points his finger, “You know, I might be.” 
“No you aren’t, if you were lactose intolerant then I’d be lactose intolerant,” you shoot. 
“Explain the empty can of air freshener in the bathroom after queso and chips?” 
“Have you considered during queso and chips that queso is a dip and not an optional beverage?” 
Mingyu’s cutting between you two before you can go on with your bickering, afraid he’d have to physically peel you off of each other if it goes on, “Let’s just go to a drive thru, you can get your lactose or…non lactose options however you like.” 
That’s how you’re shoved into the backseat of Mingyu’s car, Seokmin fiddling with the GPS to find the nearest McDonalds. 
“How do you not know where the nearest McDonald’s is, you live here,” Mingyu hisses as he takes his fourth right turn in a row.
“We always just order in, who sits in a car and goes to McDonalds.”
“Us apparently,” you lowtone to Mingyu from the back, picking at a crusty flower that you found in between the seats. They ignore you. 
“Okay, I think it’s this one. Dude, get a new GPS, this one responds after fifty years, of course it’s gonna take this long.” 
Their own bickering is starting to zone out into a buzz in your ears as you stare at a patch of leather behind Mingyu’s seat. You vaguely considered that you’re falling asleep. 
The streetlight has other plans, however, when you sense something glinting in the sudden light underneath the seat. Your interest is piqued, moving forward to see what it was. Mingyu senses you shifting and asks you what you’re doing. 
You don’t answer him as you shuffle around to catch sight of it again. And then you see it, a tiny necklace on the slightly dirty mat, a circle charm with a single ‘J’ in the center. You aren’t sure why you froze at the sight, the gold glinting prettily even in the dark. Leaving it there, you emerge from under the seat, trying to seem nonchalant. 
“Nothing. Thought I saw something.”
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Mingyu’s common occurrence in the bookstore is starting to concern you, never catching him as the type to read something other than the occasional bad riddles on the back of a cereal box. You stand corrected however, as you find yourself trying to find a hardcover for him on the computer system, mumbling incoherently.
“Never knew you read.” 
“Well, now you do. This one’s really good though, you should read it too.” He notes, motioning towards the paperback version he brought with him for the book he’s finding. 
You snort at his suggestion. “Have you realised this is one of the most popular books in its genre right now? Hard to find someone who hasn’t read it.”
He frowns at the revelation, “Oh. None of my friends read it.”
Seokmin hasn’t opened a book for recreational purposes since he was twelve. As for his other friends…they didn’t exactly seem like the smart type either. You get up to move to the shelf the computer’s indicated, trying to walk off your annoyance at a particular memory before it begins to show. Mingyu follows you in your pursuit to find his book, skimming the shelves himself as he strolled behind you. 
“Oh, right, how’s that exhibition thing going? Forgot to ask about it,” you ask as you spot the box of the hardcovers at the top of the shelf. You grab the ladder that rests near the wall as he answers.
“It’s going pretty good, nearly done. I just need to send the final pieces over – what’re you doing?” 
You grunt as you begin to climb up the metal ladder, trying to get to the box. “Getting your book, genius.”
“Wait–” He moves to grab the ladder at the base as he watches you step higher. “Get down! I’ll go up instead.” 
“You get cold feet at the bottom of an escalator, be serious, Mingyu,” you grunt as you pull the box towards yourself, the ladder shaking with the force it takes, and it has Mingyu gripping the metal tighter. You pull the familiar cover out before closing the box back up. “There.”
“Why would you keep supposed bestsellers there, isn’t this like, in demand?” He grumbles as he continues to hold the ladder as you climb back down. 
“Ran out. Need to restock them at the front, but I’ll do that tomorrow.” You huff as you jump the last step, earning a loud yelp from Mingyu. 
“Chill out,” you chuckle as he puts the ladder away. “Okay, do you want me to look at anything else for you?”
“What would you recommend for my next imaginary adventure?” he asks as he picks out a random book from the shelf, trying to find the blurb. 
“Not that one.” You scrunch your nose at the sight.
“This one I know is popular. What’s wrong with it?” He chuckles as he puts it back.
“Don’t believe everything you see on the internet,” you call out as you walk back to the front.
“And believe you instead?” 
Oh, you wish.
Picking up your current read from the front of the store, you wait for him to reach the end of the opening where you stand to hand it to him. 
“You can decide that for yourself. Haven’t finished it yet, but it looks super promising. Try it out if you want.” 
He barely looks over the glistening title before handing it back to you, and you nearly assume he didn’t want it. 
“Ring both of them up,” he says, and then with a pause he continues, “And anything else you think is good too, I don’t really care.” 
Deciding you’d test the waters with this first recommendation, you only cash him in for two. He doesn’t question it as you do your job behind the desk, making casual conversation as he waits for you to find the right barcode. 
“How far are you with that one?” 
“The one I gave you? Just touched chapter 20, I think.” 
He only hums in response as he pays, grabbing the bag that you push towards him. 
“Let me know how you like it,” you comment before he begins to turn to leave. 
“‘Course.” He grins, and you can't help but grin right back. He leaves you in the store with a slight heat coming up to your cheeks, and a wad of gum in your mouth to keep your stomach in check. 
By the time the next day rolls around, it’s been nearly 24 hours before you hear from him again, his contact seemingly only ever gracing you within the walls of the bookstore – except he isn’t physically here. Mingyu texts you, and you nearly fall out of your chair at the sight of his name on your phone. 
It’s near embarrassing how quickly you pick up your phone, passcode going wrong once, twice, thrice…you decide it’s the top five worst times your phone’s refused face ID. You’re slamming your fingers onto the screen harder than you should, watching the warp in the pixels at the pressure. By the time it does open its secrets for you, the annoyance has settled. Not at him though. 
[Mingyu]: hey [Mingyu]: i got to chap 20  [You]: what [You]: how [Mingyu]: started reading when i got home [Mingyu]: and then i got to 20 [Mingyu]: i think i pulled an all nighter [You]: you think? [You]: was it that good [Mingyu]: couldnt put it down [Mingyu]: i wanna talk about it but my eyes are closing  [You]: you know where to find me when you wake up
The typing ellipses don’t pop up after that, and you assume for the better that he’s succumbed to his afternoon drowsiness. If he was serious about that all nighter (which you don’t doubt, no way he could’ve plowed through twenty chapters and gotten any sleep), you assume he’ll be knocked out for at least the rest of the afternoon. 
Smiling to yourself at the thought of him wanting to text you about your matching achievements (and actively pushing your mind away from the blessed image of a napping Mingyu), you find yourself scrolling up the conversation, trying to remember the last time Mingyu had texted. That was easy to find out as the short scroll past the sparing details from your photography adventures landed you straight into late last year, a sparse conversation regarding your brother’s whereabouts when he wouldn’t answer his phone. 
You remembered the conversation. As mundane and ordinary as it was, it was difficult to forget the way your hands were shaking as you typed your one word replies, how your breathing was coming out uneven at a mere text back. You could argue there was less of that this time round, proud of yourself for learning to control your emotions better. 
There’s a train of thought that leads you to every recent interaction you’ve had with him. The conversations where you could look him in the eye, your relative indifference when he would show up unannounced, the disappearance of the wad of emotions in your stomach at the mere mention of his name. 
The latter may be slightly untrue, but you can't help but note how the ounces of fear within the concoction is gone. You were never quite sure what it was that you were so afraid of, perhaps the fateful night at Seungcheol’s party had answered that question for you, but still. 
“Seok’s not the type to beat me up if I dated his sister. And besides…” He sighs, halting his words.
“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.
“I’m not interested in going after someone who’s chased my tail for the past fifteen years.”
Despite telling yourself it was the alcohol talking, maybe even a couple puffs of whatever — the mild disappointment remains. Thinking about the weeks following that, the moping and the hurt, you almost don’t blame Mika for acting the way that she did. 
Your brother had always been oblivious to all the frolicking in your heart that would ignite as Mingyu would enter the room, and for over a decade at that. And yet, it was during those weeks that he had noticed you acting like you had been dumped, asking you what on earth was wrong with you. 
“Did somebody say something to you?” he asks.
“Huh?” you frown, annoyed at the way he's planted himself directly in front of the cabinet that held your beloved moonpies. 
“You’re acting like you’ve been rejected by the love of your life. Nayeon’s not telling me anything and you’re being avoidant, what is up with you?” He huffs, hands on his hips. 
Oh, if only he knew how right he was. But you weren’t upset because the love of your life rejected you (anymore, at least), you were upset because he was a public asshole. 
It takes more coaxing from him to get you to start talking. It’s easier when he brings out the big guns: “D’you want me to tell mom?”
You tell him a little, not naming any names, much to his dismay. “Some guy was an ass, something about me being too easy or whatever.” 
“You’re upset because some drunk dude decided to run his mouth?” He scrunches his nose at the thought. “Ignore him, he’s stupid.”
“Thanks for the help, I’m cured,” you deadpan, pushing him aside to get to the gold inside the cabinets. 
“I could get Mingyu to help me beat him up, I just need a name.”
Oh. You briefly wonder how he'd feel if he had to beat up his best friend.
More than his attempts to sound like a cool older brother, the image of Mingyu beating himself up brings you more amusement than anything else. You crack a smile at the thought. 
That was months ago, yet you can’t seem to forget the hurt. Trying to shake off where your thoughts were taking you, you get up to take a walk around the store for something to do, fixing microscopic displacements on the shelves and wondering if you should restock something, only to realize you’d already done that when you came in, not wanting to whip out the ladder again to restock the ones you'd just landed from.  
Landing inevitably back behind the counter, you instinctively reach for the book wedged beside the computer. Your outstretched hand stops midway, thinking about how Mingyu’s reached as far as you in the story quite literally overnight. Retracting your hand, you decide you’d wait. 
The bell chimes signaling a customer, and you find yourself grateful for the distraction.
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It’s nearing 8:30 when you decide you should close early. It was slower than usual today, the few walk-ins leaving without purchases too hefty, rendering you bored in your seat for most of the day. You’re locking the drawers of the main desk when Mingyu walks in with the familiar tune of the bell chiming, soft smile as he greets you quietly. 
“How was your nap?” you ask, trying not to giggle at his still dazed expression. 
“Pretty good, didn’t wanna wake up though.” His voice remains relatively coarse, and you don’t miss the light indent on his left cheek. It’s endearing, enough to have you wishing you could cup his face in a loving squish. 
But you don’t. 
“You don’t say,” you comment. Pointing at your own cheek as you continue, “You sure you don’t wanna take the night off too?” 
“Fuck,” he whispers as he looks down to fumble for his phone to see for himself in his front camera. The puffiness hasn’t gone away entirely, evident when he’s frowning and looking downwards, and the urge to squeeze comes hurtling back. 
“Did you drive like this?” 
“Uh, no, I walked.”
“Walked?” You try to comprehend if that was even more dangerous. He only nods. “Why?”
“Wanted to see you.”
It takes effort to not clutch your chest at the way your heart leaps. Kim Mingyu, you bastard. 
“Had to talk about the book.”
Your voice comes out a little more breathless than you’d like, but you hope his drowsiness skips over it. “You could’ve texted.”
He pauses as he mulls it over. “I mean, yeah…I don’t know. I just put my shoes on and came here.”
You decide you’d spare him the brain power and continue your remaining closing duties, talking to him as you move around the store. 
“We can take my car to my place, better than getting distracted here.”
He only nods in response. “Do you want any help?” 
“Nope, just need to turn off the lights and lock the doors. Let me grab my bag.” 
By the time you’re home, an XL pizza and drinks in your arms to satiate Mingyu’s post nap ravenous tendencies, you drop down on the couch with a huff. Seokmin hears the ruckus and appears from his room, not wasting time to break on the pizza with Mingyu as you leave to freshen up. By the time you settle with your own slice it seems as though Mingyu has roused himself significantly more than before. 
“Okay,” you huff as you land on the soft cushioning, “What did you think about the book?”
“Hard to believe this is her first book, it’s really good.” 
“Her world building is amazing, some of the best I’ve read.”
Your back and forth discussion grows increasingly passionate, forgetting the fact that your brother was also right there excluded from the conversation. His head shifts back and forth as the both of you converse, utterly lost. It would’ve been funny, except neither if you were actually looking at him. 
He manages to get a word in as one of you pauses for breath. “Since when do you read?” 
Mingyu gapes at the question, seemingly trying to find an answer. “Recently.”
“Why?” 
“What do you mean why? I just wanted to start reading,” he scoffs in a manner that could be described as exaggerated. If he’s trying to throw Seokmin off his scent, he’s succeeded, as he watches Seokmin get up and announce that he has work to do. That leaves the both of you alone. 
The conversation takes you into the late hours of the night, Mingyu’s prior nap releasing him from the chains of reasonable sleeping hours as he remains wide awake despite the 3 AM time on the dial. You manage to keep up with him, even when he follows you to the kitchen to brew a coffee. 
“Do you usually work this hard just to make coffee?” he asks as he watches you discard the used espresso puck. 
“We have a bottle of the instant stuff here somewhere for when I’m lazy,” you explain as you pour the fresh shots into the prepped ice and milk. “Doesn’t taste the same though.” 
“Coffee is coffee,” he says as he stirs the drink you push towards him. 
“Quite the contrary. Besides, the instant stuff fucks with my stomach, I’d rather not.” You take a sip of your coffee, glancing at the sink. “Will say, hate everything I have to wash afterwards.”
“I’ll do ‘em later, gotta pay you back for all the manual labour that went into this thing,” he refers to the latte he’s sipping on currently. 
“The appreciation is enough. We can make Seok do them in the morning for being a loser and going to bed early,” you snort. Mingyu laughs at that, the image of Seokmin doing dishes while the both of you sleep in. 
“You sure you don’t wanna call it a night?” he asks you as you place yourself on the kitchen counter. 
“I’m having fun, Mingyu, seriously. I’m off tomorrow too, I don’t have to wake up,” you reassure for the nth time. 
He doesn’t reply, only stares up at you from his leaned position. He’s chewing on his lip, and you find yourself unconsciously chewing at your own, the already raw skin stinging at the abrasion. Mingyu’s hands come up to your face slowly, like he knew it was hurting as he pulls your bottom lip to release it with his thumb. 
“You’re gonna bleed,” he whispers. His hand that grasps your chin doesn’t move, rough thumb continuing to graze at your lip lightly. 
“You never stopped picking at your lips, did you?” he wonders out loud, eyes trained on your mouth. 
Your own hand comes to lightly grip at his forearm. He remembers your habit, picking at the skin of your lips since near middle school, getting yelled at when you had to excuse yourself from the dinner table when they would bleed. 
“Old habits die hard.” Your voice is thick despite the gulp you had to take before opening your mouth. 
It was true, probably too much as you continue to look at his near perfect face. The oldest habit, the hardest to die. 
Mingyu drops his hand, landing it in your lap, your own hand still gripping his forearm. You aren’t sure what’s going through you as you trail your hand up further, to his wrists, to the dip of his palm, landing on his fingers. You grip his hand, tight this time. 
“I’m gonna jump,” you whisper, and you feel his grip tighten around yours as he braces to support you off the counter. 
You face him in silence, contemplating, “It’s hot in here, let’s go back out.”
He watches as you pick your cup off the counter and leave, not waiting for him to follow you. He finds himself trying to take deeper breaths, stalling, but not for long as he joins you back on the couch.
It probably came as a shock to both of you the first time Mingyu announced his leave much earlier in the night, when you stopped him, asking him to stay. It was silent for a few sparing moments as you both absorbed what had come out of your mouth, trying to make sense of it. You found yourself needing to coax him a little more to convince him he wasn’t overstaying his visit, that you were having fun. He sits back down, warning you that this was going to be a long night. 
You don’t think you could ever forget the absolute somersault your stomach performed, the after effects leaving you still as a plank. 
It was a long night indeed. And yet, when you found your eyes closing after a fight, much later on the couch with a large blanket shared between the both of you, Mingyu watches you doze off while leaning on the couch facing him, wishing the night was longer. 
If you were awake, you probably would’ve found yourself agreeing.
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There’s a lot Mingyu has to learn about himself. He’s reminded of the fact nearly everyday. Especially right now as Seokmin runs his mouth sitting with him at a secluded booth in some bar. 
They had company, a couple guys joining them for dinner before leaving not too long after. That left him and a slightly tipsy Seokmin alone, who’s currently munching on a platter of crackers in front of him. He was bright enough, the energy from the others keeping him going as they played their drinking games and ate their obnoxious amounts of food. It was alot more somber with only the both of them left, his mood deflating as their friends slowly dwindled in number. That wasn’t about to stop him from ordering another beer though. 
“Summer’s so boring,” he grumbles in dejection, flicking a stray crumb off the table. 
“You chose to stay here,” Mingyu replies. 
Seokmin doesn’t answer him, but continues to look like a kicked puppy, a slight pout forming on his face. 
Mingyu fights the urge to scoff, “You can’t possibly be this upset about summer being depressing.” 
“It’s not about that.” 
Mingyu takes a swig of his own drink before sighing loudly, “What’s this about then?”
Seokmin says your name, and Mingyu is suddenly very interested. “She just seems to be doing a lot better since she started working at the bookstore.”
“Better?”
 “She told me about this guy a couple months ago.”
Mingyu’s trying really hard to not look visibly deflated, not that Seokmin would notice considering his state, but he attempts to sound nonchalant regardless. “Do we know him?”
“I – no, that’s not,” he huffs in exasperation, “She said she overheard him, basically calling her easy.”
“Easy?”
“I don’t know, something about her chasing his tail or whatever, she won’t tell me who it is. She hadn’t been doing too great recently and I’m pretty sure it was because of him.” 
It is dawning on Mingyu, embarrassingly slowly, that the guy Seokmin is talking about — may be him. 
His voice is hoarse, a little frantic. “And she’s doing better, you said?”
“Oh yeah, the bookstore’s been amazing for her. Not sure how though, ‘cause she just sits there doing nothing for hours.”
He can’t bring himself to meet Seokmin’s eyes, remnants of his memories flurrying around in his brain in an attempt to figure out what other bullshit he had spewed that day. He was sure you weren’t there, you couldn’t be.
“Maybe doing nothing was what she needed.” Mingyu’s reply is whatever came to him off the top of his head, mind still racing. 
“Hm, I guess. I was trying to get her to tell me, we could’ve chopped his dick off together,” Seokmin grumbles.
Mingyu winces slightly, eyes tight shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s a protective hand that subconsciously reaches his crotch area. “Yeah, yeah totally.” 
“Fucker got let off easy, he should be happy she’s doing good.” Seokmin continues to ramble, voice getting increasingly louder. 
“Yeah…”
“She’s not easy. My sister isn’t easy at all! Running after his tail, my ass! She doesn’t need some motherfucker with bad hair to be running his mouth, drunk as a bitch.” He stabs a single chopstick into the spare piece of meat on his plate, and the force has Mingyu flinching slightly. 
“How do you know he has bad hair?” Mingyu continues to stare at the impaled piece of beef that Seokmin brings to his mouth. 
“I don’t need to know a motherfucker to know he uses shitty hair gel.” 
Mingyu may try to run his hair gel past Seokmin at some point. But right now, he’s only trying to make it out of the bar with his sex organs intact.
“Hey, we’re past this, remember? She’s doing great right now and that’s all that matters.” Mingyu sounds overly flustered, but he can’t bring himself to care as he attempts to reign in an angry Seokmin. They were garnering looks, and the last thing he wanted was to get kicked out before they had paid. 
Seokmin is still huffing and puffing, but significantly less so as he finds reason in Mingyu’s words. “I’m gonna find out who he is.”
“You hate living in peace.”
“My sister’s hasn’t had any peace because of this dickwad, I’m—” 
“OKAY! Okay, got it. We’ll figure that out when you’re sober.” Mingyu rises from his own seat as he finds Seokmin lifting his own butt off his chair in a near war cry. 
He manages to fend him off, waving for the bill before he has to pull him back from aimlessly marching to whoever’s house he had in mind. He calms down as they wait for the check, finishing the remaining scraps on the table in silence. 
Seokmin seems nearly back to his regular self after a few minutes, forehead creases smoothing over during his cool down time. He speaks, except this time it’s in a more socially acceptable manner.
“Hey, I’ve been noticing, you and her have been getting pretty close lately. I don’t know, it’s just, I woke up and saw both on the couch and —” 
“Here’s your bill!” The waiter cuts him mid sentence, placing the check on the table. 
Mingyu knew what Seokmin was getting to, and he was thanking every star in the galaxy for bringing the waiter into their lives at that exact moment. He’s quick to fuss over the glossy piece of paper, humming and making comments at their purchases to fill in any silent opportunities to let Seokmin continue. Mingyu’s slips his card in the wallet.
“It’s on me,” he announces as he flashes a quick smile to the waiter. “You can cut a ten for yourself.” 
“Wait, what — let’s split, what’s wrong with you?” Seokmin jolts up as registers what’s happening a little too late. 
“It’s fine, you can pay for the next one.” He says as he shifts around the table to look for his phone. “You should probably go to bed too, it’s getting pretty late. Sleep off the beer and whatnot.” 
Seokmin is left speechless as Mingyu gets up, grabbing his stuff. 
“Wait, your card—” Seokmin starts. 
“Is here,” Mingyu spews a quick ‘thanks’ to the waiter, waving his card in front of Seokmin so he’d finally stand the fuck up.
“Do I need to drag you out of that chair, let’s go!” he says, grabbing Seok by the arm to lift him off his seat. It was nearly funny how he couldn’t get him to stay within the vicinity mere minutes ago and now is begging for him to get up. 
By the time Mingyu’s jamming Seok’s key into your apartment, he’s tired of his endless rambling. He can only appreciate his drunk brain for not bringing up the last question he tried asking him. He’s opening the door, urging Seokmin to walk inside, slapping him awake from his nap against the wall.
Mingyu deems it best to physically put him in bed for the furnitures’ sake, pushing him in front to lead him to his room. Mingyu’s spent by the time he’s done and Seokmin is snoring, his back cracking from the hunched position he’s kept from tucking him in and taking his shoes and jacket off. 
He tiptoes out (despite knowing it’d take a marching band to wake him up at that point), closing the door as quietly as possible. 
“What’re you doing here?” 
Mingyu nearly jumps out of his skin, landing a mile as he hears your voice in the dark hallway, hand coming up to his heart. “Jeez— announce yourself, would you?” 
“In my own house?” you raise an eyebrow. 
“Just—” he waves you off as he comes round, standing straight. “I was putting Seok to bed.”
You inhale sharply. “Did you drink?”
“Me? No, but he’s knocked out right now, he’s probably gonna need a pill in the morning,” he replies. 
“Hm, I’ll see to it in the morning, or whenever it is that he wakes up.” 
“Yeah.” Mingyu is standing awkwardly in front of you in the dark hall, not having anything else to say. “I’ll get going now.”
“Oh, right, yeah. Get some sleep,” you say as you let him move past you. 
“You too, don’t know why you’re awake,” he chuckles quietly. 
“Couldn’t sleep, I’ll go to bed now though.”
The awkwardness is painful, Mingyu can feel it in his chest. But what he’s feeling more is the way you look in your night shirt now that you’re in the light of the living room, legs shown farther up than you’d usually let them go. He wonders if you're wearing shorts underneath, but slaps himself out of it when he realises he’s been silent for too long. 
“Uh yeah, I’ll go now. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Mingyu.”
Mingyu replays the last five minutes in his head the entire car ride home, when he’s changing out of his clothes, when he’s brushing his teeth, when he crawls under the warm covers to finally call it a night. Mingyu thinks about what he said all those months ago at a dumb party, how he’s hurt you more than he thought he had. There’s an ache that plunges into him, the thought of you going through that because of him while he stayed blissfully unaware. 
He doesn’t know what he’s gonna do to make it up to you, but right now, he’s happy. Happier than he’s been in a while, falling asleep to the thought of you. 
“Goodnight, Mingyu.”
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You, on the other hand, are far from happy as you find yourself in yet another car related predicament. 
Having to run to work in the middle of July is never a preferred option, yet you find yourself needing to do it anyway when you walk out to your engine refusing to start. 
You really needed a new car. 
Abandoning the hunk of what was turning out to be just expensive scrap metal, you rile other options out in your head. 
Seokmin was long gone with his car. The bus was gonna take too long. No way in hell were you about to overpay a taxi to take you somewhere that was essentially just a 15 minute walk (read as run). 
So you find yourself slinging your bag as a crossbody, thanking the heavens that you at least didn’t need to change your shoes. You pray for your white sneakers as you run across town, blurting apologies to passerbys that would gape at your hurried form. As apologetic as you were, it didn’t compare to how sorry you felt for yourself, the heat pricking your skin in an agitated rise anytime you’d slow down. 
The AC is near heavenly as you gasp walking into the bookstore, red faced and hair sticking to your forehead. 
“Sorry,” you gulp frantically. “Sorry, I’m late.”
“Oh god,” you hear your boss comment as she sees you walk in. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I just need a minute. Car broke down.”
She ushers you in front of the AC, waiting for you to collect yourself before taking her leave. 
“I think I’m okay now, sorry about that.” Your chuckle comes out a little choked. So much for being convincing. 
“You really should get a new car. I have a friend who’s daughter is selling hers, do you want me to ask them for you?” She’s patting your shoulder as she talks to you, and you recognize her courage to look past the sweat that’s accumulated there.  
“That’d be great actually, thank you.” 
Your second blow of the day comes right after you’ve finally gotten rid of the buckets of sweat on your body, seating yourself behind your desk to do some digging of your own.
You immediately wish you hadn’t as soon as you open the first second hand market site, the price tags landing you somewhere between never happening and impossible. Groaning, you place your head in your hands as you try to think of what to do. You pray your boss would come back with a quote that isn’t as outrageous as everything else you’ve cursed your eyes upon, seeing as that seemed the only viable option for you. 
Closing the windows off your computer, you decide this was a headache for another time. You reach for your bag to rummage through it, only to find yourself in your third predicament of the day. 
You had forgotten your book. 
It shouldn’t have been a worry, considering you were in a bookstore and had access to about 56 more of the same edition that you could borrow for the day. Except it was a worry, because your copy had been religiously tabbed and annotated as you would read, not a single thought left to be forgotten in your head as they would spring up. You can almost see the pink cover sitting on your desk and you nearly begin to cry. 
You wonder if you could break your ‘one book at a time’ streak for the sake of it, picking up another one off the shelf to start. The thought nearly makes you gag, the anxiety of losing interest in your current one leading you to sit aimlessly at your desk for the rest of the day. 
What’s even more anxiety inducing to you, however, was the promise you’d made with Mingyu the week prior, to be finished with the book by the end of today so you could finally decide whether the end was worth it or not. The thought has you nearly picking up a copy off the shelf anyway, annotations be damned. Force of habit, however, forbids you as you are shunned by yourself to play solitaire for the rest of the day. 
Things seem to look up for you though, as you find yourself reading a text from Mingyu nearly halfway through your day. 
You hadn’t spoken to Mingyu at all for the entire week, caving when you found an excuse to finally talk to him to ask where he’d left off on the book. It was even longer before that, reaching the near three week mark where you were virtually zero contact.  
You’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you, his sudden absence raising a mild panic within you as your mind raced with the possibilities. 
Was he uncomfortable with you? 
Was he avoiding you? 
Were you less low key than you thought? Was he catching on to how you still weren’t over him? 
The wilder thoughts seemed to be laid to rest when you couldn’t take it anymore, texting under the guise of your mutual book topic. Your brain still couldn’t handle it, picking up minuscule details in his texting behavior. Perhaps his replies were choppy, perhaps they were shorter than usual, but it was enough to give your mind the rest it needed regardless of whatever the facts were. 
Needless to say, you were more than happy to receive a text from him first after weeks, immediately replying. 
[Mingyu]: hey  [Mingyu]: are you at work today?  [You]: yeah  [You]: i get off at 10 tho  [Mingyu]: can i see you today? 
You try to contain the growing flurry of excitement as you type. It was easier to stay casual over text, you find yourself appreciating. 
[You]: course [You]: are you coming to the store?  [Mingyu]: i’ll meet you at your place when you get off  [You]: okay!!! [You]: see you then 
There’s a ghost of a smile on your face as you switch to playing computer chess in celebration. Your day was going horribly, but perhaps it was to balance out the happiness you were feeling at the thought of seeing Mingyu in person after nearly a month. 
Were you being dramatic? Possibly. But you figured you’d been left waiting long enough. You let yourself have a spring in your step for the rest of the day, closing up nearly an hour early as you practically skipped back home, enjoying the significantly better nightly weather. Maybe you were abusing your employee privileges, but you couldn’t take the anticipation anymore. 
Humming to yourself, you're hopping into the shower as soon as you get home, wanting to freshen up as quickly as possible before he gets here. It was near heaven’s plan the way the day is unfolding for you. Perhaps the universe knew you needed the time to unwind today, bringing Mingyu to you despite the near four week gap. 
Grabbing your pens and your book, you settle on the kitchen counter to do something you’d been looking forward to all day, nearly giddy that Mingyu would be joining you to wind down with you soon enough. You’re invested by the time the doorbell rings, a simultaneous text from Mingyu, confirming that he was at the door. 
Opening the front door is probably the easiest thing you’ve done all day, grin at the ready as you greet him. 
“Hey,” you breathe out at the sight of him. 
“Hi,” he replies, slipping inside as you give him space to take off his shoes. 
Leading him into the kitchen, you comment lightheartedly, “Nice to see you’re still alive.” 
He chuckles slightly at that, “Yeah…sorry about that. I’ve been pretty caught up with…stuff.”
“The exhibition? Weren’t you nearly done with that?” you question as you pass him a glass of water. 
He takes a sip before setting it down again, both hands holding the cup on the counter. “It wasn’t that, I’ve been done for a while. Just waiting.” 
“It’s next week, isn’t it?” 
He hums in response, taking another minuscule sip of water.  
“What was it that was keeping you this occupied for so long then?” you continue with a slight snort, trying not to over analyze his slightly…off putting behavior. 
“Uh,” he starts, “Is Seokmin home?” 
“Seokmin?” you frown, confused. Was he here to see your brother? “He’s out. I thought you knew.”
“Yeah, I know. Just confirming.” 
“Oh.” You sit down on your own chair at the counter, trying to make sense of his mood. 
“Mingyu, are you okay—”
“I need to talk to you.” 
“O-okay.” 
It’s silent. Painfully so. 
“I don’t know how else to bring this up so I’m just gonna cut to the chase.” 
There’s no reply from your end as you simply stare at him in anticipation, wondering what on earth had him looking this serious as he faces you in his seat. 
“I know I’ve done a lot to hurt you. Never enough to match what you’ve felt, but I know you’ve been through the muck because of me, and it makes me feel horrible that I was the cause of something like that.” 
“Mingyu—“
“I want to apologize, before I say anything else. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. And I know an apology isn’t gonna take away what I did to you, but I just need you to know that I’m really, really sorry.”
His breathing is heavy as he talks, while yours is near nonexistent as you need to remind yourself to breathe manually. 
“I’ve done a lot of growing up in the past year. And I hate myself for making you a subject of that transition when you were the last person that deserved it. I’m happy to say that won’t happen again, because I’ve learned my lesson. For good.”
He pauses. 
“I’m not asking you to forgive me, because… because I don’t know if I’ll ever deserve it for what I’m about to say. I may be acting selfish right now but, I think you deserve to know after everything.”
“I love you. I love you so, so much it hurts. I…I’m sorry, I love you. I don’t know how else to say it but, I love you. And I might be hurting you even more with this but I swear I’m not lying. I love you.”
There’s tears now, heavy ones that drip down his face as he refuses to look back up at you, eyes screwed shut in a desperate attempt to halt the pure emotion that’s trailing down. 
You have your own wet cheeks, glossy, shaking eyes that don’t tear away from his hunched form. You’re listening. You’re listening to everything and it’s too much. 
“Mingyu,” you whisper. You give up on trying to talk as you let out a breath that sounds almost like a sob. 
It’s silent for a few more moments as you absorb everything that’s happening, mind running a hundred miles an hour yet, still as a rock. It’s too much. 
“Mingyu, I can’t believe you’re saying this to me.” Your voice is quivering, but you manage the words. “After everything. You’re standing in this very kitchen and saying this to me.”
The deja vu was overwhelming, and you’re projected back to last year when the both of you stood on these very tiles, as you poured your heart out to the man in front of you, only to be told you were an idiot to think he could ever love you like that. The words may not have been said, but the message was clear: you were not made for Kim Mingyu. 
And yet, you find yourself in front of an apologetic man, expressing his remorse. And oozing love for you, of all people. Why now? You want to scream. Where was this when you were ready to take him so willingly in your arms. 
You’re lying if you say you still don’t want to plant yourself in his hold to sob out your own wretched “I love you”’s. You wanted to go to him. To take what you’ve wanted for so, so long. 
But you can’t. You can’t do it. 
“I know,” he whispers. “I’m not asking you to do something about any of this. I’m not asking anything of you at all. I just need you to know.”
You bite back a remark, trying so hard to calm yourself down. 
“I think you should go.” Your voice breaks. “Please.”
Mingyu is gone. But his scent lingers. His cup remains on the counter, the same one he put his lips to. As he prepared to speak, and speak, and speak. 
You can’t stand to stay in the kitchen anymore. 
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You were fourteen the first time Mingyu broke your heart. 
It was an accident, perhaps, considering you were willing to do absolutely anything to be around Mingyu when your brother would have him over. What you didn’t know this time, was that the both of them had company. 
Tiptoeing down the hall was easy the second you heard your brother's voice coming from the kitchen, announcing that he was getting drinks for them. The plan was simple; walk in under the guise of being annoyed at Seokmin for something and then relish when Mingyu would defend you from his inevitable rage — except this time you’d have a few extra minutes alone with him before your brother trudged back.  
Putting on the best annoyed face you could, you stalk past Seokmin’s room, immediately wishing you hadn’t. Mingyu was in your brother's room as expected, sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers with numbers and letters too complex. But he wasn’t alone. There was a girl that sat between his legs, turned over in his arms as they whisper to each other. They weren’t studying at all; the giggles and smiles were a dead giveaway. 
You halt in your tracks at the edge of the doorway in mild disbelief, brain computing the situation in front of you. They hadn’t noticed you yet, it was apparent with the way she leans into him to place her lips on his in a peck. 
There’s a yell of your name behind you as Seokmin sees you loitering around his room. You jump in surprise, not expecting him back so quickly. Your brother, too, isn’t alone, a girl of his own accompanying him with her arms full of cans, peeking over his shoulder to catch sight of your distressed form. 
“What’re you doing?”
Running was the worst thing you could do, and yet you found yourself doing just that in your cornered state. Catapulting face first into your pillows, the sobs coming before you could muffle them. It was humiliating, even more so when you feel your mother’s hand coming up to your shoulder in a stretch of comfort. 
“I yelled at him, he won’t do it again!” she attempted to reason with you, trying endlessly to get you to emerge from your cavern of comforters. 
“It’s not that!” you groan.
“What is it then? Darling, I won’t know if you won’t tell me.” 
Your mother gave up a little bit after that, and your brother had apologized for yelling at you; apologized for all the wrong reasons. You brushed him over.
There were worse things circling your mind in that moment, like the image of Mingyu in a liplock with another girl, the image of him holding her with all his limbs. 
You couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.
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“What the fuck, is wrong with the both of you?” Your brother swoops in like a pesky seagull and snatches the book right out of your hands, eyes blown in exasperation. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Give it back!” you yell, reaching for the book that he’s placed over his head. Climbing the couch does little when he simply moves away from you. 
“Not until you tell me what’s going on between you and Mingyu.” 
“Nothing is — ugh,” you drop back onto the couch in frustration. You take a deep breath. “Nothing is going on. Now can I have my fucking book back?” 
“No, you're avoiding each other.”
“He’s your friend, why would I hang out with him?” 
“Stop dodging the question!” he spits. 
“Stop dodging.” You exclaim as you jump for the book another time. 
“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” He throws the book to the corner of the room. It takes every fiber in your body to stop yourself from plucking every strand of hair off his head. 
“Seokmin!” you scream. 
“Your book’s fine. Is this about the guy you told me about?” He asks, hands grabbing you by the upper arms, forcing you to look at him. 
“No, it’s not,” you grit. 
“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” he repeats, making direct eye contact. 
“Because,” you start, exhaling deeply, “I’m tired.”
“It’s an exhibition for fucks sake, an exhibition with your face plastered all over it. You go in for five minutes and you’re out. Put something on and let’s go!” 
“I don’t want to go.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer. You’ve been doing nothing but go to work and stay home, you need air.”
“I need you out of my air,” you swat his hands away, thoroughly disgruntled. 
“I’m giving you twenty minutes.” 
He was serious, you realize as he begins to pound on your door with two minutes left to spare. You decided you weren’t about to be embarrassing and show up in your sweatpants, encasing the final shreds of dignity you had left. You couldn’t imagine being asked “who?” when the face on the walls doesn’t match with the one you brought to the place, not doubting the number of fancy scouters that’d be gracing the crowd tonight.
 Opting for a plain black dress and a coverup felt enough for you, your usual makeup and matching accessories helping you feel better about the bags under your eyes your concealer couldn’t quite erase. 
Seokmin says nothing for probable fear of having you landing back on the couch, choosing to ask you a simple, “Ready?” instead.
The drive is short and silent, the remnants of you and your brother's prior argument still hanging in the air. You weren’t about to apologize to each other, but you would let the hours cool you off before you’re back to your normal selves. For now, you’re glad to step out of the stuffy car, the anticipation having you needing to breathe in an elevated sense. 
The place is more crowded than you thought it would be, men and women in fancier than necessary clothes loitering the entrance carpeting. You suddenly feel underdressed. 
Catching Mingyu’s name is easy, the display at the front doing the most to highlight the star of the night, catching sight of him is proving a little more difficult. Not that you’re trying, but Seokmin’s embarrassing neck stretches are having you restraining yourself from pulling him down by the collar. 
Walking into the display is a strange experience, for you at least. The pictures are larger than you’d thought they would be, spanning the giant walls of the gallery. Your face is huge. 
There’s a few other one’s that scatter between the portraits, beautiful all the same. You find yourself wandering as you note the plaques next to the pieces, descriptions and words from the artist; Mingyu’s words. It’s easy to begin looking at the pictures through his eyes, the meticulous scanning you’re doing proving easier for you to zone out despite the crowd. 
You’ve gone through nearly every picture, approaching the last one, the one that looked a little more important than the rest as you take in its size. The steps you take towards the plaque are halted as you hear someone calling for you. You recognize his voice, how could you not?
Mingyu is weaving through the crowd to get to you, eyes locked as he tries to make way for himself. Your mouth is open by the time he’s here, mind frantic as you try to figure out what you should say. 
Congratulations.
You’ve worked hard on this. 
This looks great.
How’ve you been?
“You’re here,” he says, simple as that. 
“I’m here,” you breathe out, a nervous smile on your face as you look down at your shoes. 
“Seok told me you were here too.” 
Your head snaps up, “You were looking for me?” 
“I mean, it’s a bit difficult with the crowd—”
“Oh,” you cut him off before you could forget. “Congratulations, by the way. The turnout looks great.”
“Uh, yeah. It’s great.” His eyes skim around the large hall.
You hate how his craning is drawing your eyes to everything else. So to say the plain black button up and slacks he’s sporting, the thin chain he wears around the unbuttoned collar. You hate how he’s put in no effort, and you hate how it makes him look even better somehow. 
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks after he rounds back to you. 
Your reply is drowned in your throat as somebody calls for him across the hall, pointing at a mic in their hands. 
“I have to go address everyone, you’ll be here, right?” he asks, but he once again has no chance to listen to your answer when somebody physically drags him by the elbow and yanks him away from you. You lose sight of him in the crowd of people, his face disappearing.
It gives you enough opportunity to slowly turn around to go back to your plaque reading, exhaling loudly as you walk up to the final, biggest piece on the wall. It’s labeled as the focal point of the collection. It’s a picture of you, and for some reason, you can’t remember taking it, or posing for it at all. 
You recognize the mountain top, more so the grueling trek up the place for your last shoot with him. It’s a side profile, your arms folding over the railing, face tucked into your padded arms. A single ray of light illuminates your eyes, the background soft. 
The picture was an accident. A moment that may have gone forgotten, yet one that appeared right when it was meant to. A mistake made on purpose, one that manages to carry the weight of years. A slow accession of golden rays, dawn illuminating the subject in hues indescribable, except those that describe a feeling. A feeling in turn, indescribable.
Soft. Legible. New.
You take a step back. 
And another
Then another. 
You look at the picture, the picture of you. Taken the one time you weren’t actively posing for the camera, the one time he wasn’t meant to take a picture of you. It landed here, at the seemingly deserved position of a final piece. The piece that was meant to emulate all that the artist wanted to come out of his work. 
You crane your neck up higher, the name of the collection in bold block letters right above the picture that supposedly says it all. 
THE BEGINNING
There’s a ball forming in your throat, one that's cementing itself where it stays. 
There’s noise happening in your peripherals, somebody speaking into a mic on stage. You’re not paying attention until you hear his name. 
“I’m pleased to present to you the man of the hour, mister Kim Mingyu…” 
You watch with glossy eyes as he takes the stand, clearing his throat before he begins to speak. 
You needed to leave. 
Finding Seokmin is easy, and you thank every plane of heaven that it is, considering you’d rather be caught dead than be seen red nosed and teary eyed. 
“Let’s go home.”
“Huh? Right now? He just started talking.” Seokmin argues, tearing his eyes away from the stage to gape at you, only to note the expression on your face. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 
“Seokmin, you said five minutes.” You grip his sleeve tight. “Please, either give me the keys, or I’ll get a cab.” 
He pauses for a moment, and you immediately hate yourself for making him choose between staying for his best friend or leaving for his sister. He slowly comes down to grip your hand, pulling you away. 
“Let me drop you off home.” 
You’ve calmed down a significant amount during the car ride home, managing to convince (fight) Seokmin into going back to the exhibition hall before Mingyu noticed that he was gone. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you made him miss something as important as this just because you couldn’t control your emotions.
He hugs you at the door, tight, and you hug back just as strong, holding back the river of tears that suddenly threaten to let loose. He presses his lips to your temple, muttering a little ‘I love you’ before he leaves. He knew nothing, yet was ready to comfort you like he did.
You let yourself sob after that, as wracking and strong as they’d come. It’s freeing, to fall to your knees and simply cry like a child. You aren’t sure what it is that you’re crying about, yet you know all the same. The thought of both those things make your head begin to spin, causing another fresh wave of tears to come rushing down. 
Remnants of the day Mingyu spoke his truth to you in your own kitchen come tumbling back; the shock, the anger, the hurt, and despite everything, the love.
You loved Mingyu, you weren’t going to sit here and deny it when you were a mess of jewels on the floor with only his face at the forefront of your mind. You’re a liar if you say you don’t love him. You’re a liar if you say you’ll ever stop. 
Years and years of pining and wishing and praying, to hope that one day, Mingyu would open his eyes with the realization that he loves you the same. 
The day came. Your prayers were granted, your wishes came true; you no longer had to sit on the sidelines as an ignored constant. And yet, you found yourself wanting to be anywhere but in his presence as the prayer unfolded. 
Were you too weak to handle reciprocation? Have you gotten comfortable pining by yourself? Or was it something completely else. Were you still hurt by his words? Were you aghast at his audacity to have the courage to speak his heart to you, when you went years without doing so? 
Were you protecting yourself? Or were you actively throwing the golden chance you’d received right out the window? 
You’re tired, it’s evident with the effort it takes you to simply reach your bedroom, heels thrown somewhere in the doorway as you made the trek barefooted. Hoping your muscles would release the pent up tension at the learnt feeling of the mattress, you find yourself closing your eyes awaiting the relief. 
Still clad in your dress and makeup, you attempt to find the solace of sleep, knowing you’d feel nothing if there was nothing to perceive. The universe doesn’t seem to want to give you that luxury, your eyes wide awake despite closed lids. The thoughts aren’t showing signs of slowing down either, every part of your mind alive as you remain still as a rock on your bed. 
You aren’t sure how long you’ve been in bed, but as you hear the distinct jingle of keys in a lock, you know Seokmin is home. The door of your room is opened very quietly, and closed just as quick when he sees your form in bed seemingly asleep. 
You open your eyes for the first time in hours, the darkness remaining as you slowly sit up against the cushions. Your movements are sluggish as you stare into the abyss, brain quiet for once as you swing your bare legs over the mattress, slowly trudging down the hall to your brother's bedroom. 
Knocking slowly, you hear a slight shuffle before the door is opened, the light from inside the room illuminating the dark hall and forcing you to squint. 
“Did I wake you?” Seokmin asks, sporting formal trousers with his dinosaur pajama shirt.
“Uh, no, I was awake.”
“Why haven’t you changed yet?” 
You ignore him, cutting straight to the chase, “Can I borrow your car?” 
There’s silence for nearly three seconds before Seokmin speaks, “What on earth do you need my car for this late at night?” 
“Nayeon’s” 
“Bullshit.”
You let out a loud, loud sigh, “Will you believe it for now?” 
Your brother looks at you with an expression you can’t really pinpoint, eyes like he’s scanning into your soul. “The keys are at the door.”
You walk back to your room to grab your phone and your cover up, not bothering to change as you grab Seokmin’s keys and leave. It probably wasn’t a good idea to leave the house so late at night, but your brain seems to have activated tunnel vision as you nearly stalk towards the car. You’re pulling up to where you need to be within minutes, the empty roads leading you on near autopilot. 
By the time you’re standing in front of the door, your desire to settle this once and for all turns pungent in your head. You needed to end this one way or another, you were tired of running in circles. 
Ringing the doorbell is easy, it’s just the realization that settles during those few moments of waiting that grab you by the throat. You were really doing this. 
Mingyu opens the door quicker than you’d anticipated, after briefly wondering if he’d already gone to sleep after the long day he’s probably had. His brows furrow as he registers you at his door, your name tumbling out of his lips in mild confusion. He’s still in the clothes you saw him last, and you doubt it’s been long since he got home too. 
“Promise me you mean it,” you say. 
“What?”
“Promise me you mean it.”
“Mean what?” The crease between his brows deepens as he tries to make sense of what you’re saying. 
“Whatever you said. Promise me you mean it. Promise me. On all the years we spent together, on every truth you've ever said to me. Promise on me that you mean it.”
The silence is deafening, yet you wait. You wait for him to respond. You wait for him to understand what you’re saying. 
Mingyu gulps before opening his door wider, expression neutralizing slightly as he invites you inside. “Why're you standing on the door? Come inside.”
“I’m not taking another step in your direction, Kim Mingyu, not until you answer me,” you snap. 
Letting his hand leave the grip on the door, he brings them both up to rub at his face, taking a simultaneous breath, deep and shaky. When he emerges his eyes are showing a hint of red as he licks his lips. 
Your grip on your own fingers tighten as Mingyu talks. 
“I want to rip my heart out for what it wants from you. I want to rip it out for what it did to yours. Believe me when I say I’ve forgotten how it felt to be this sincere. I love you. I don't deserve to say it, but I love you.”
There’s a beat that passes, one that you barely feel as you throw your bag on the floor of his entryway, grabbing him by the collar with both hands as you yank his face down to hover right in front of yours, nose touching, lips not quite. 
“If you’re lying to me,” you whisper, shaky voiced, “I’m gonna chop your balls off.”
Mingyu answers for you as he finally, finally closes the cursed gap between you, lips capturing yours in a long awaited kiss. You let him pull you inside as you move your lips against each other, the distinct click of the door signaling you were finally inside. 
His hands grip your hips and waist in a manner that’s near painful, yet you can’t find yourself complaining even as he pushes you against the now closed door, hard. His mouth leaves yours for what is barely a second, before your desperate hands move his face back in to continue what you’ve been wanting to do for years. 
His mouth is warm, the vaguest hint of champagne on his tongue. You wonder how many toasts he’s clinked and downed, how many times he thought of you as he celebrated. 
“I love you,” you mumble against his lips. 
Mingyu’s hands are pushing your body against his own, so flush and tight you can barely breathe. Like he’d rather die than bring space between the two of you in that moment. 
“I love you, too,” he mumbled back between kisses. “I love you so much.”
Both of your hands are beginning to roam, less innocent than the fingers tangled in his hair and digging into his shoulders, less innocent than the grips on your hips and neck. It isn’t until his hands are groping your ass that you begin to subconsciously tug at his shirt, wanting the wretched thing out of the way to finally feel him in full. 
There’s a warm hand that grips yours as he stops you, lips pulling away slightly as he rests his forehead against yours. There’s a wild moment of sobriety as you wonder if you’ve read the situation wrong, if you pushed too far. 
“You’re asking me for something I’m ready to give you.” He sounds breathless. “But I need to know if you really want it.”
He looks absolutely gorgeous with his swollen lips, your lipstick staining his own mouth, his messy hair from all the desperate fingers running through them. It takes one look into his bedroom eyes to have your yeses tumbling out your mouth. 
“I want it. I want it if you’ll give it to me. Mingyu, please.”
He leans in to give you a soft peck before pulling away slowly. “You can stop me whenever, just say the word.”
He’s facing you as he speaks, hands pulling you further into the house in slow and steady steps. “I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, I promise.”
By the time you reach the four walls of his bedroom, you’re itching to have his hands on you again, something he senses as he presses his hot mouth to your awaiting lips. His touches become decreasingly respectful as his hands run up your sides, thumbs brushing against the sides of your clothed breasts as he moves his mouth further down. 
Kisses line your jaw, reaching the joint as he nips at your earlobe teasingly. Pushing the coverup off of your shoulders is easy, fingers tracing the exposed skin as his mouth moves down to your neck, nipping and sucking teasingly. Your breathing is embarrassingly heavy. 
“You’re gorgeous,” you hear him breathe out. 
His fingers fit under the zipper of your dress not too long after, pulling it down to reveal your back tantalizingly slow. His hands smooth over your waist once he reaches the bottom, bringing them up to your upper body as you feel his palms grab your breasts in a soft squeeze. The moan you let out is small, but enough to encourage him to bring his hands to the straps of your dress, pulling them down your shoulders one after the other. 
“Do you realize how good you looked in this today,” he says. “Was so happy you came, so, so happy to see you after so long.”
Mingyu kisses you again in a slow, passionate manner, hands pushing down the tight fabric of the bodice to let it fall off your body to a pile on the floor. It leaves you bare save for your bra and panties. 
Mingyu lets out a groan at the sight in the dimly lit room, the sound checking in as one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard, the vibrations leading straight to your core like they belonged there. The focus goes back to his hands that continue to roam your body, mouth traveling further south to leave hot, open mouthed kisses on your cleavage. 
Your own fingers come up to fiddle with the buttons of his dress shirt, managing to pull a couple loose as you whine, “Mingyu.”
“Patience, my love.” He moves you backwards slowly as his mouth leaves your chest, pushing you into the plush of his mattress as you feel the back of your knees bump into the edge. “Let me take my time with you.”
He brings a knee up to the bed as he keeps his gaze on you, beginning to unbutton the rest of his shirt as you prop yourself up on your elbows. For once, you’re allowed to stare at the sculpt of his chest and abdomen, letting your gaze take you to the dipped V before the cut off. The mere sight of his fingers working against his belt have you needing to close your thighs for the sake of your now throbbing core. 
Only clad in his dark boxers, you let him climb over you in a way you can only describe as a prowl, inserting himself between your legs as he pushes your head up to the headboard. The hand that splays out on your thigh is having the muscle twitch, the anticipation for what he might do next gripping you. 
“Let me get this off of you,” he says with his hands toying with the elastic of your bra, prompting you to arch your back so he could reach under to unclasp it in a way you can only call professional. 
There’s barely any time for you to feel a semblance of embarrassment when he flings the padding away, mouth coming in direct contact with your breast in a harsh suck. The feeling has you moaning his name into the dark room, only encouraging his wet tongue to circle around the bud before going back to suckling. He doesn’t forget your other breast as he brings his hand up to squeeze the mound and play with your nipples the same. 
The sensations are overwhelming already, your hands gripping his hair in desperation as you throw your head back at his ministrations. The ache in your underwear is becoming increasingly difficult to resist, the foreign feeling of his mound against your inner thigh only coursing more want into your awaiting heat. 
Your chest is a mess of redness and saliva but the time Mingyu’s had his fill, pulling away to admire the work he’s left. 
“Fuck, Mingyu, please,” his name is the only thing that comes out in your pleas, hoping he’d give you wanted before you lost your mind for good. 
“I love this lighting on you,” he says simply, moving to sit on his knees as he takes his eyes up and down your practically naked frame. 
Both hands come in to push your thighs further apart, giving him better access to the gold that sits right in between. “You’re beautiful.” 
You feel the pad of his thumb come in contact with your clit in the lightest pressure, slowly brushing over the muscle as he continues. “The most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” 
He presses his thumb in further, pushing down to meet your hole, the source of the large wet patch on the fabric of panties. The whimpers the new feeling is having you let out are near embarrassing. Hooking his fingers around your panties, he asks, “Can I take these off?” 
“Yes!” you gasp out immediately, hip rising to let them slide the pesky fabric off and away. 
He wastes no time in bringing his fingers to your folds, gathering your arousal in his fingers as he spreads them across your throbbing clit. He’s rubbing the area in circular motions, the feeling having you wracking out sounds you never thought you could make. The sheets are bunched up in your grip as you throw your head back at the feeling that encases you, eyes screwed shut. 
“Oh, Mingyu,” 
That only encourages him as his other hand joins the party, a lone finger circling your entrance in preparation to plunge into you, slowly, all the way to the hilt of his finger. Zoning in on the feeling, the pump of his fingers into your core, the constant ministrations of his other thumb on your clit. Your hands leave his wrinkled sheets as they come in to grip his wrists and forearm, needing to feel his skin to anchor yourself into the present. Not being able to bring yourself to open your eyes, he takes it upon himself to insert another finger, encouraging your lids to fly open at the stretch and the loud moan that comes with it. 
“God, you’re so fucking wet, I’m barely pushing.” It may have embarrassed you a little if you weren’t so withdrawn from pleasure, the prospect only having you whimper his name even more. 
It isn’t when he curls his fingers inside you that you feel the need to stifle the sounds that come out of your throat, hand to mouth as the volume has you needing to shut yourself up. He brings his hand off your clit to grab you by the wrist, freeing your mouth of restraint. 
“Don’t,” his voice gravelly as he gets off his knees to hover over you, his other hand continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you in perfect motions. “I wanna hear your voice. I wanna hear all the pretty sounds you’re making.”
He leans in to place a chaste kiss on your mouth, fingers quickening their pace as your sounds grow louder, “Mingyu, I think I’m…I think I’m close.” 
“It’s okay, let go whenever, darling, it’s okay.” His other hand goes back to its rightful position on your clit, thumb circling the bud in quick motions as he encourages you to climax. 
And you do. The blissful release comes crashing into you hard, the feeling leaving nothing but white hot space in the expanse of your brain, letting the feeling take over as you melt into the sheets. “F-fuck…”
He doesn’t stop either hand till you physically have to push his fingers off of you, the overstimulation coming in hot. 
You don’t come around for a little bit, but feel every searing kiss he leaves on your skin in the aftermath. Pressed into your chest, your collarbones, you neck and your jaw. He makes his way up to your face slowly, pressing his lips onto your closed lids as you wait for your breathing to even out. His face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes, leaning forward to press your own lips against his. 
“How was that?” he asks slowly, and you don’t miss the hint of a smirk on his face. You can’t help but break into a smile of your own. 
“Great.”
“Great?”
“Amazing.” You lean in to kiss him again, palms coming in contact with the expanse of his back as you move your mouths together. It’s not long before your fingers reach the waistband of his boxers, hands coming up front to feel him through the fabric, palming him in the process. 
You feel him shudder in your hold, lips pulling away as he stares into your eyes. 
“What?” you ask in a whisper when he makes no other moves. 
“I’m trying to think if I have condoms or not,” he whispers back, and you can’t help but let out a laugh at his delivery. He begins to giggle with you, backing up as he reaches over to rummage through his nightstand. 
“Fuck yeah,” you hear him say as he comes round with the shiny pack. He’s giggling as he undoes the wrapper, the lighthearted nature of it all bringing a laugh to your own lips. 
Pulling his underwear down and off, you watch as he preps himself with the rubber, your own hand coming up in a trance to stroke his gorgeous length lightly, his palms ghosting over your hand at the feeling. Once he decides he can’t take it anymore he’s grabbing both your wrists to pin them beside your head in one swift motion, earning a gasp from you at the abruptness. 
“I’m gonna put the tip in first, let you adjust before I go in further,” he explains as he uses his knee to push your thighs apart to grant him more access. “I’m gonna listen to you throughout, okay? Just say so if you want me to stop, I’ll hear you.” 
When you don’t reply he continues, “I need to know you heard me, baby.” 
“I heard you,” you answer, and he finally lets go of one of your hands to guide his length to your entrance, gathering your remaining arousal. He’s sliding his tip across your folds, grinding onto your clit within his length and it has you nearly careening off the edge. 
“Mingyu, in, please!” you beg, and you hear him chuckle before he’s finally pressing the tip into your prepped hole. 
You almost breathe a sigh of relief as you feel him begin to push into your hot core, keeping his promise of only getting to the tip, before bringing himself out and going back in. He’s slow as he stretches you out, his hands coming up to the sides of your head as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. Lifting one of your legs, you wrap them around his waist as you grant him further access into you, one of his hands coming up to keep your raised leg steady. 
He halts when he finally bottoms out, pausing for breath. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just,” you manage, arms wrapped around his shoulders tight. “Give me a second.” 
When you give him the green light and he begins to move out slowly, only to thrust back in, you find yourself settling into the sheets more consciously, ready to take what he was about to finally give you. You’re both a mess of whimpers and sounds, the feeling overtaking any shreds of restraint you had left. His hands are groping you everywhere, his fingers finding your breasts again as he begins to toy with your nipples, all while thrusting into you at a steady yet equally maddening pace.
He feels amazing, beyond just his dick. The feeling of his body pressed against yours is heavenly, the tears beginning to slowly prick at your eyes as you let yourself melt into his hold, a metaphorical layer away from morphing into his skin entirely. The sounds he’s making are pure melodies, the groans, grunts and heavy moans floating around in your otherwise empty head like they’d never ever leave. They do more when they encourage the building feeling in your abdomen, your moans growing increasingly erratic. 
If the bed is creaking from his incessant thrusting, you don’t hear it. The only thing ringing in your head being the near closure you’re about to receive from him. “Gyu, I’m…”
“Shit, me too.” he grunts, and you believe him as his movements begin to grow sloppier, his hips slamming into yours with more force than before. 
And then it’s bliss, the feeling dropping in on your body as you feel yourself begin to spasm in his hold, the loudest moan ripping from your throat at the sensation. You’re contracting around him so, so good, and it’s enough to have him moaning into your own ear as he feels his climax come over him as well. 
He’s shooting his load into the rubber, and for a wild moment you wish he’d rip it off and finish inside you instead, your blabbering brain wanting to take all of him in. The fever passes in a few heavy minutes, Mingyu’s body is dropped on top of you, his length remaining inside your warmth as you both relished in the post sex haze. 
He’s first to pick his sweltering body off of yours, the cool air hitting your skin as he pulls out of you slowly. You’re still trying to come to earth, even when you hear the water beginning to run in the attached bathroom, even when he walks out in a fresh pair of boxers, walking over to your form on the bed. 
His fingers run through your hair as he places soft kisses on your temple, coaxing you to open your eyes. “Come on babe. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
When you make no moves to get up despite opening your eyes, he’s physically pulling you up to grace your head on his chest in an effort to take a step back into the world. His fingers continue to thread through your hair, massaging your head lightly as you breathe in his scent. You do end up getting up and letting him lead you to the bathroom, but only after he threatens to carry you there over his shoulder. The bath is already drawn when you dip your feet into the warm water, planting yourself inside as you lean against the walls of the tub.
“Gyu, why is it warm?” you whine, wanting a cooler temperature to hit your sticky body. 
He chuckles as he sits by the tub, hands coming in to wet your hair for you, “I’m scared your body’s gonna go into shock if I chucked you into a cold bath. You’ll feel better in a minute, love.” 
You don’t argue as he does most of the work for you, shampooing, scrubbing and conditioning. He lets you sit in the tub for a little bit as he leaves to get you a towel and a shirt, coming back to continue coaxing you to leave the tub this time. You grab his outstretched hand, pulling him down to sit next to you again. 
“Sit with me for a little bit, right here,” you say as you lean over the edge of the tub. 
“I can sit with you in bed once you’re dried up,” he tries to reason. “Under the covers. Where it’s more comfortable than hard acrylic, remember?” 
Pouting a little, you let him wrap you in a towel as you admit defeat, too tired to argue much more than that. He continues to shrug one of shirts over your shoulders, going as far as drying your hair before finally letting you crawl back under the covers. He joins you soon after, wrapping his limbs around you in a tight embrace, breathing in the mix of his own shampoo and your scent. 
“Are you okay? Did I do too much?” he asks quietly.
“Mhm,” you hum into his chest. “I’m okay.”
There’s a deep vibration in his chest as he finds your lack of response amusing, looking at your face that looks about three seconds away from slipping into dreamland. Nearly, he realizes, as your eyes are suddenly pushed wide open, a gasp leaving your throat. 
“What? What?” Mingyu asks as you sit up all of a sudden scrambling to find your phone. 
“My phone, where is it?” you ask as you ruffle through the covers. 
“Did you bring it with you?” 
You suddenly remember your bag that you threw in his entryway a couple hours ago, your phone nestled inside. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you attempt to stand up to retrieve it, only to find out the universe wasn’t about to let you do that. You don’t miss Mingyu’s chortle as he watches you nearly fall over after wobbling around like a fawn, your arms trembling as you pull yourself up back on the bed. 
“What the fuck?” you breathe out. 
“Get back on, I’ll get your bag for you.” He’s still smiling when returns, throwing your purse on the bed. 
You immediately unlock your phone to find Nayeon’s contact, choosing to leave her a text considering the late hour.
“What is it?” Mingyu asks again as he watches you type, arms coming up from behind to engulf you in his hold again. 
“I told Seokmin I was at Nayeon’s. He didn’t believe me but I’m telling her to cover for me anyway.” 
“Oh.”
The thought comes to you later than it should have, realizing you’d have to involve Seokmin in…whatever this was, sooner or later. 
“Don’t,” you hear Mingyu say behind you.
“What?”
“Don’t. I know what you’re thinking about. We can deal with Seokmin when we need to, don’t think about it right now, that’s my job.” 
“I-”
“He needs to deal with me being serious about you,” he continues, giggling, “Even if I have to make you run away with me.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” 
He brings your wrist up to his mouth, placing a kiss there, “It won’t. I promise.” 
The sitting up thing doesn’t last for too long, both of you wanting nothing more than to lay down for the lack of energy. Limbs are a tangled mess as you both lay in silence, tired but not wanting to go to sleep just yet. It stays that way for a while, head on his chest as you take in the aftermath of everything that’s happened. 
You just had sex with Kim Mingyu. He loves you back. And you know he means it. This isn’t a hyperrealistic childhood fantasy, this is real life. You’re touching him, he’s holding you, you can hear his heart beat, you can feel his skin under the palm of your hand. 
You’re distracted from your thoughts as you sense Mingyu reaching over the edge of the bed to his nightstand as he looks for something, bringing his hand over to show you a very familiar pink cover in his hands. 
“Oh,” you let out as you recognize the title, snorting as you remember where the verdict for that ended, “We were supposed to talk about the ending.”
“We could do that right now.”
“Uh, about that,” you say. “I never actually got to finish it.”
“You were supposed to be done like two weeks ago,” he frowns.
“I didn’t get to finish it the day…the day you came over. Couldn’t bring it in myself to touch it after that.” you say as you note the little tabs sticking out the sides, wanting to address them. 
“You can use this one to finish it then, it’s yours.” 
You glance up at him as he talks, opening the book to skim through the pages. And then you see it, tiny scribbles on margins, sticky notes at chapter ends with his thoughts, colorful tabs sticking out of every highlighted line, everything complete with a color coded key in the front.
“I saw you do it with your other books, found out it’s not actually a crime to write in books and…I guess it became fun.” he explains as he watches you flick through the pages. “I was gonna give this to you at some point. Sounded like a thoughtful idea in my head.”
You don’t answer him, simply facing him in silence before continuing, “I would’ve been sucking your dick right now if I wasn’t so tired.”
He throws his head back in a loud laugh, the high pitched noise sounding across the room as he nearly curls up from the hilarity. You don’t think it was that funny, but maybe it’s because you were telling the truth. You’re pretty sure you’ve joked about wanting to do that to someone who’d do something like this for you, perhaps you could find the transcripts hidden in some text messages with Nayeon later to show Mingyu.
 His laughter is contagious regardless, giggles of your own coming out as you watch him practically lose it. 
“I think you need to go to sleep,” you comment through bouts of laughter. 
He sighs a vocal sigh as he calms down slowly, agreeing with your suggestion that the near morning delirium was getting to both of your heads. You rest your newly acquired, yet equally prized possession to the side, finally turning in for the night as he reaches to turn his night lamp off. 
Mingyu moves to press his forehead into yours, not before placing a tiny peck into your lips as he mumbles against them in the dark, “I love you.”
“I love you,” you hum back as you press your lips together one last time, finally letting his breathing lull you into sleep. 
The mattress is foreign, so is the pillow, and so are the scents that linger in the room. It’s colder than you’d usually have it and the blankets feel different on your skin. And despite the most foreign thing in the room, the one that has his arms and legs wrapped around you, the one that whispered his love for you into your skin before drifting off, you find yourself falling into a sleep that’s more blissful than any you’ve had in a very, very long time. 
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The sun is doing nothing to help itself against the tide of annoyance tht rises in your sleepy state. You’d get up and yank the curtains but can’t bring yourself to have the motivation to leave the soft mattress, simply bunching the blanket up to your face to block out the remnants of sun rays that invade the room. You’ve nearly lulled yourself back to sleep when you start registering noises coming from outside the bedroom walls, muffled yet familiar. 
Your brother is talking about something you can’t make out, Seokmin’s voice is undeniable despite passing through the folded layers of comforters around your head. You don’t doubt the presence of the sweat that’s probably already accumulated on your scalp. 
 There’s nothing that alarms you in the moment despite Seokmin’s yapping — that is until you hear a second voice.
You recognize it immediately as the sound of Mingyu’s talking, the words equally as muffled yet the intonation clear all the same. 
Kicking the sheets off of your overheating body, you squint as you open your eyes in a desperate attempt to reign yourself back to earth, recollections of the past twenty four hours hurtling back to you like a constant line of K.O’s. 
The gallery, the picture, the drive up to Mingyu’s place,the sex, the falling asleep in his arms. You sit up in Mingyu’s bed, clad in nothing but his own T-shirt as you realize your brother is downstairs talking to Mingyu, and you have no idea if he knows you're here. 
You realize very quickly that you’re trapped, being left with no other option than to remain in Mingyu’s bedroom until he comes back up to give you the clear, despite wanting to walk out to take the tiniest peek. You’re not sure what’s worse, getting caught or sitting in the growing pool of anxiety before Mingyu gets back. 
It’s a long, long twenty minutes, in which you’ve done just about everything to get to hear their conversation a bit better; or to distract yourself from the fact that it’s happening at all. Pressing your ear to the door before going back to make the bed. Freshening up in the bathroom before going back to jamming your eye into the keyhole (you aren’t sure why considering door faces a plain wall). You even hijacked a spare cup Mingyu had lying around the room to stick into the wall, hoping all those Mr. Bean cartoons hadn’t been lying to you. 
They were simply talking in a tone too low for your ears to catch (despite the Mr. Bean hack), and you resorted to scrolling on your phone to pass the remaining time. It’s catastrophic to say the least, when you’re met with a string of frantic messages from Nayeon as well as a couple missed calls from your brother. 
[Nayeon]: fuck [Nayeon]: i didnt see this [Nayeon]: he called this morning asking about you  [Nayeon]: i accidentally told him you werent here [Nayeon]: im so sorry where are you  [You]: its okay its my fault for texting so late [You]: i was at mingyus place [You]: ill tell you more later [Nayeon]: WHAT???
By the time Mingyu walks in, he’s mildly surprised to see you awake, pausing at the door as he takes in your huddled form. You sit up immediately, noting his still messy hair and the backwards sweatshirt he’s thrown on over his boxers. The question tumbles out of your lips before you can help it, “Was that Seokmin?”
“Good morning to you too,” he grumbles sarcastically, coming up on the bed to join you in your huddle fest. You’re a little embarrassed at the way you’ve greeted him first thing when he sees you, but his expression when he continues replaces it with something akin to fear. “And yeah, it was him.”
You want to ask him a follow up question, but you aren’t sure what to say, simply staring at him, hoping he’d get the hint and continue by himself. He does. 
“The idiot has a spare key so he just…” He trails off, rubbing his hands on his face,  “he just walked in straight to the room. Got the shock of his life, I suppose, ‘cause it woke me up while you kept snoring.” 
“He walked into the room?!” you nearly screech, hand clamped over mouth, horrified. “What did he say to you?”
Mingyu has the audacity to laugh, simply tugging you back down on the bed to hold you. You briefly wonder how he’s so casual about this. “There’s not really an expected reaction from someone when they find you half naked in bed with their sister.” 
The haphazardly shoved sweatshirt and no pants look was starting to make sense. “I heard you talking downstairs, what were you talking about?” 
“Nothing you have to worry your pretty little head about,” his lips graze the shell of your ear as he snuggles further into you. “He wants you home by seven though.” 
You throw your head back in a whine, “God, what am I gonna do?” 
“You’ll be fine, he didn’t smack me, he can’t possibly be that mad at you.” 
“What was he then, ecstatic?” you retort. 
“I mean,” his energy shifts a little. “I think he’s just a little hurt that he wasn’t told.” 
“So you’ve done your damage control and now I need to pray he doesn’t disown me.” 
“God, you’re being so negative,” he comments and you can’t help but round up on him.
“And you’re acting like you don’t care!”
He’s planting a fat kiss on your cheek at your outburst, coming in to coddle you even more. “I’m kidding, I just want you to relax, don’t be upset.” 
“Has he given you his verdict yet?” you ask quietly.
He sighs at the question and you can’t imagine his answer being any good. “Not yet, pretty up in the air about it.” 
When he sees you deflate even more in his arms, he continues, “I’m sure he’s gonna come around, he loves you too much to not. It’s just a matter of time while he gets to make sense of the situation, don’t worry about it.” 
“I hope so,” you reply.
“We might have wash his socks for the next five years once he does, but it’s okay.” 
You can’t help but snort at the prospect, “His feet are stinkier than the regular human’s, are you sure about that?”
He grins, “I’d do it for you.”
You push his face away, rolling your eyes at his attempt to be sappy. “You’re gonna keep me for five years?” 
His smile drops as you feel the atmosphere shift in the slightest, his presence moving impossibly closer to you. “I’m gonna keep you forever.”
Hearing it is enough to have you lurching forward, closing the final gap between you so you can give in to the urge to kiss him. He’s enthusiastic to give back, pulling your body to face him entirely as you mumble between kisses, “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
The rest of the day (once your anxiety’s calmed down, at least) is spent loitering around each other as you migrate around the house in random excess. He makes you breakfast, and you need to physically restrain him to stop feeding you every bite of pancake and bacon. You let him make your favourite for lunch though, after you finally admitted how much you truly liked his Chow Mein, going as far as to run to the store to grab the stuff he was missing. He returns with a bag of groceries, not missing an abnormal amount of moonpie value packs that he stashes in his cabinets because “you’re gonna be around all the time”. 
6:30 rolls around quicker than either of you would have liked, needing to wiggle out of Mingyu’s hold on his couch to change out of your half naked state. He continues to delay you another ten minutes as he refuses to open his car door to let you walk into the apartment building, leaning over the console to continue mumbling whines between your own consoling kisses. 
By the time you’re making the walk of shame up to your door, the pit of anxiety that began to brew this morning returns from its dormancy, no Mingyu here to help ease your nerves, Gripping your key tight in your hands, you brace yourself to jam and twist to finally end this matter once and for all (at least you hope you can). 
Seokmin is waiting on the couch for arrival like a parent waiting to catch their child in the act. He briefly glances over at you as you whisper a tame “Hi”, slipping off your shoes. He doesn’t reply as he merely grabs the remote to pause his show, casting a heightened awkward atmosphere at the silence that’s now engulfing the room. You tread carefully over to the couch, where Seokmin sits with his arms crossed. 
It takes one look at his face for you to suddenly want to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. He didn’t look angry, and perhaps you would’ve preferred his aggression if it didn’t mean having to look at a hurt Seokmin. You sit in silence for a couple dramatic minutes, hoping he would start talking so you wouldn’t have to. Yet, when you realize you might have to say something anyway for fear of crushing under the pressure, you find yourself opening your mouth. 
“Are you upset?” Of course, he’s upset, you idiot.
“I just–” he starts, before sighing. “I just wish one of you would’ve told me what was going on.” 
“I know, I’m sorry,” you reply. “I didn’t want either of you to have an excuse to be upset with each other, so I just…”
“I get that it was a recent thing but I think I deserved as much to know what was happening when I wasn’t around.”
You wince as speaks, realizing he hasn’t caught on to the fact that this isn’t recent at all — for you at least. “Um, about that…”
“What? There’s more?” he scoffs. 
“I, uh…I’ve liked him since like fifth grade—” He’s immediately jaw dropped, eyes bulged, taking a sharp breath. “But! In my defense, it was really obvious—it’s honestly your fault for not noticing.”
‘My–My fault?!” he sputters. “That’s like, forever, and you told me nothing? Mingyu told me this was recent, why did he lie?” 
“He didn’t, nothing happened till last night, I swear.” You cringe at what you’re entailing. “It was just me that liked him for that long, he figured it out pretty early on but…”
“He’s finally reciprocating now?” he suggests, almost sarcastically. 
“Yeah,” you breathe out lightly. 
“This is insane,” he blows out a breath of air, massaging his temples. 
“I’m not being stupid about him,” you mutter lowly, “This isn’t some puppy dog crush, especially not after so long.” 
He’s silent. 
“I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to think I’m jumping into this blind, especially for what it means for you too.” 
No response. 
“I’m sorry that you had to find out like this, it’s really not how I wanted it to go.” And when you’re met with even more silence, you find yourself continuing. “Please, talk to me. Cuss me out if you want, I’d honestly rather you yell at me.”
Seokmin sighs for the near hundredth time, finally looking like he might say something. “I want you to listen to me very carefully.”  
The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, mind immediately going to the worst. Was he going to ask you to break up with him?
“I’m gonna choose to trust the both of you on this,” he starts, and you nearly melt into the cushions, “It’s your life, you can date whoever you want. And…I guess Mingyu is better than someone else. Probably uses bad hair gel though.” 
You’re catapulting yourself off the couch at the sound of that, throwing yourself onto an unassuming Seokmin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 
“OW! Okay! Geez, get off,” he grumbles as he finally stops wrestling you to let go of him, hugging you back as you squeeze his shoulders tight. 
“I promise I won’t keep anything like this from you again.” 
“You better not,” he huffs as you let go of him, “Don’t think this means you’re forgiven. You still have a lot to tell me.” 
“I promise I won’t leave out a thing.”
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The following weeks are near bliss, following your very loud confrontation with Nayeon when she gets back from her summer vacation, her screams at every plot turn having you praying for her neighbors. You doubt she believed you despite everything, not until she physically sees Mingyu come in one day, making a beeline to peck you on the lips before greeting anyone else. Her dropped jaw was very telling. 
Even now, as Mingyu sports the title of the lame alumnus that still hangs around campus as he grips your hand, walking through the grass, the double takes you’re receiving seem to be traveling quite fast. You wouldn’t necessarily blame them considering the trickier than usual dynamic you sport due to your brother (and you guess due to his reputation as well). 
But you also knew they’d be quick to die out as the newer batches of students come flying in — Mingyu will soon become a very well kept secret, in one way if not the other. 
His neighbors, however, must be wishing he had the same sentiment as well, considering the absolutely foul noises that are coming from his apartment. 
You’re learning very quickly that Mingyu’s innocent touchiness can turn into something of the opposite at any given time, exhibit A being now as you try your damn hardest to muffle the sounds coming out of your mouth as Mingyu works his own mouth on your cunt. The knees over his shoulders are shivering from the expense, fingers pumping into your hole as he rubbed a particular spot with his tongue that had you gripping onto his hair tight. 
As much as Mingyu loves to hear you, you find his other hand being brought up to place two fingers in your mouth for you as the perfect pacifier, sounds limiting extensively. 
By the time you’re coming undone, sprawled on his couch like you just ran a marathon, you’re quick to realize that he has no intention of letting you have a breather. It takes one shove for him to pull his pulsing length out of his pants, tip pushing into your still sopping hole as he invited all of him inside you. 
You’ll never forget the first time Mingyu fucked you raw, right after you told him he had the green light after taking your birth control pills. It was magic, you’ve never seen him this vocal as he finished inside you nearly four times in a single night. His moans remain loud even still, as he brings your thighs to press over your chest, basically folding you in half. The mere sound of your wetness as he pumps in and out of you is enough to have you nearly careening over the edge, especially when you feel a desperate hand reach out to rub fast circles on your clit. 
You throw your head back as you cum for the second time, pulsing around him in a grip Mingyu can’t believe has the ability to become tighter. It’s enough for him though, as he leans his forehead against your chest as he releases himself inside you. 
He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of it, watching you filled to the brim with his cum, even as it drips onto the blankets you’ve laid down below. He has half a mind to stuff the liquid back inside you, but fears you’re tired enough, the overstimulation too much for you. 
By the time you’ve cleaned up and resumed the movie you should’ve been done with hours ago, cuddled impossibly close to him, you find yourself remembering something quite out of the blue.
“Hey, not that I really care anymore,” you start, “But who were the guys you were talking to that day? From the party.”
“Stopped hanging out with them ages ago,” Mingyu scoffs, face souring at the mention of them. “I mean, it was me who said all that bullshit, but they weren’t exactly good influences either. Learned that pretty quick.”
“Oh,” you reply simply, letting your head fall back onto his chest.
He doesn’t seem to be having any of it, grabbing your chin to have you face him. “I’m still really sorry about that. I don’t care if you chase my tail for another fifty years, it’ll always be adorable.”
“Forgave you a long time ago, but I think I have a condition now.” 
He quirks a brow at your words. “What does her Highness ask of me?”
“That you chase my tail for another fifteen to make up for all the running I’ve done.” 
He’s laughing at that, agreeing to your condition as places loving smooches all over your face. “Consider it done.”
It’s later on in the night, both of you huddled in ratty hoodies and mismatched slippers, plastic bag crinkling along Mingyu’s arm as you giggle about something he said. You’re enjoying your fudgsicle in the peace and serenity of the 1 AM hour, making your trek home after raiding the corner store down the block. Mingyu suddenly halts in his tracks as he sees a particularly pretty set of flowers, illuminated by the fluorescent street lights. 
“Babe, babe, stand here let me take a picture of you.”
“What?” you frown, holding up your stick of iced chocolate. “I’m not done yet.”
You watch as he grabs the melting popsicle from your hand downing the entire thing in one go as you watch him, hand still outstretched and jaw dropped. “Mingyu, you bitch!”
He only smiles as he mulls the chocolate in his mouth, words basically gibberish, “‘ere’s more in the ba’, now go stan'!” 
You huff as you trudge to where he was asking you to pose, throwing a couple peace signs to satiate the home video urges in him so you could rip open your second fudgsicle. 
“Wait! You got a little chocolate on your mouth.” he announces, and you stick your tongue out to lick past the remnants of the sweetness. “No— wait.”
He walks over to you as your still trying to find the spot you missed, unassuming as he swings into your face to kiss the remaining off. “Oh, nevermind, it was nothing.” 
You push him off as heat crawls up your face, feigning annoyance at his antics. You decide to forgive him when rips open another fudgsicle for you, offering it with both hands, promising to not steal a single lick. You believe him, snatching the stick from him as you continue your trek home. 
It’s not until he’s attempting to send you the pictures he just took to your phone so you could post them (which, with the way you looked, fat chance) that he notices something in your albums. 
“Oh, are these grad photos?” he asks as he clicks the album open.
“Mhm,” you hum not paying too much attention as you walked and ate. 
“Why’s there only one picture here?” he asks as he pulls up to find nothing more left to load. 
It’s only then that you bring your full attention to your phone in his hand as you realize what picture he’s talking about, “Oh god, don’t look at that one.”
He does the obvious thing and opens it anyway, a louder than necessary “aw” coming out his mouth. “Why do you look like I’m about to eat you?” 
“It felt like it!” you whine, remembering the moment clear as day. “They kept pestering me to take a picture with you too, I was tryna book it out of there at first chance.” 
He giggles as he zooms into the photo, “I’m sending this to myself.”
You groan loudly at the thought, “God, just delete it, leave it alone.”
He tucks the phone into himself further, not letting you grab it. “No, you’re not deleting it. Why do you have it tucked into a separate folder if you hate it so much.”
He’s got you there, you realize quickly, and he reigns in his victory as he watches you grimace at the phone slightly, adding on, “it has a lot of feelings attached to it, I get it. But look, we can attach new feelings to it, now you’ll think about right now the next time you see it.”
“Think about you hijacking my fudgsicles? I think I prefer heartbreak,” you say, bringing your half eaten pop closer to your body in case he tries anything. 
You’re deemed correct when he replies, motioning towards your concealed treat, “Careful, I can still pounce when you’re not looking.” 
Shoving your hands into the swinging bag hanging on Mingyu’s arm, you bring out a thing of sausage and shove it towards him, “You leave me and my fudgsicle alone, go be lousy and suck on this or whatever.”
“You’d know alot about that, wouldn’t you?” he notes casually, grabbing the sausage anyway as he unwraps it to take a bite. 
It takes you a second to realize what he’s talking about while he stares at you with a mischievous expression, coming to shove him when the innuendo finally registers in your head. You do the opposite this time, pointing the melting chocolate toward him instead, threatening to smear it all over his white hoodie. 
He laughs at the sight, disarming you by simply moving your wrist away, coming to kiss you on the mouth hard regardless of your annoyed expression. 
“Love ya’” he giggles. 
“Hm.”
“What, hm? Say it back.”
You pretend to wonder, “I don’t think so.”
“Say it!” he groans, “Say it, say it!” 
You manage to wriggle out of his hold, booking it before he realises what’s happening. 
“Hey!” 
Your both probably waking up the entire neighborhood with how loud you’re yelling and laughing, and even when he manages to tackle you down on somebody’s lawn, coaxing the words out of you with borderline violence, you still manage to smile, thanking your lucky stars that you got what you wanted after all. 
“What’re you thinking about?” he asks with an undertone. 
“Thanking my stars they led me to you,” you reply. 
“More like the other way around. Needed the fattest fucking star to realize what was in front of me all along,” he jests himself. 
It sparks a laugh out of you. “I love you.”
“And I love you.”
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wonryllis · 4 months
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ⓘ SIM JAEYUN: INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE.
❪ 🕸️ ❫────𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋, 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁!
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( NOTES. ) where you are JAKE SIM'𝓼 MJ. fluff, suggestive in some places fem!centered. lowercase intded. 2040wc. 𓈃 ๋ 𝐍𝐄𝐖 峠 requests are open. happy new year guys!
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REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS WOULD BE REALLY APPRECIATED!
now playing. sunflower by post malone, stay by justin beiber.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who first notices you when you knock out his target with your tote bag because you saw him running from the neighborhood hero. immediately catching his attention with your cute face and fiercely aggressive yet again cute anger. gods knows what was in that bag, or maybe it was the angle or the way you swung it, he thinks back on it calculating shit to make it make sense and it does but nevertheless you're still cute and awesome.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who accidentally finds the little bookstore you work part-time at every monday, wednesday and fridays. always hovering around the area on the said days coincidentally exactly during the hours of your shift.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who sometimes changes out of his suit in the alleyways nearby into his nerd get up to drop by at your bookstore and always look for books that you don't happen to have as he asks at the frontdesk and you reply with your sweet smile and your sweet voice that's he finds himself getting addicted to.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who later finds out you go to his university and have been in his chem class for two years but he hasn't ever noticed you? well that's because he started being the friendly little hero just the week you transferred having no other focus than his newfound superpowers. it's a shame he thinks he could be celebrating his two year anniversary with you right now but in reality you don't even know his name.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who as stalkerish as it sounds has pictures of you in his phone, candid clicks in the bookstore to you clad in your labcoat in chem. a whole folder in his laptop where he has planned it all out how he's going to win your heart.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who loves coming in to save you at the right time and how the bad side happens to go for you even though you haven't become his woman yet. not that he'll let you know he's the one behind the mask it's too dangerous if others were to find out you were associated with the man himself and aim for you. he can't risk losing you.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who kind of becomes friends with you in his superhero disguise but still a stranger as jake. and it's all because of the numerous saves where he flirts with you shamelessly after defeating the enemy. "don't you think it's too much of a coincidence how i always come for your rescue?" hanging upside down at your face right after knocking out the black hat, "i think it's destiny," lowering the pitch of his voice as he moves even closer.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who now drops by in your bookstore in his suit for a quick flirt and who hopelessly stares at you across the room in uni wondering when it'll be jake's turn and not the friendly neighborhood spiderman.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who gets caught while staring and confronted by an uncomfortable you whether there's something he needs. and who has his clumsy ass exposed the same night when he's fighting right outside your window, his mask getting pulled off by the monster. his wide eyes looking straight at you like a deer caught in headlights as you realize it all. fuck, it's all over.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who gets hit and punched more than usual because he thinks he's lost his chance with you, but having his world blown over when you let him in, more like invite and clean off his wounds for him.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who can't keep his eyes off the tiny pajama set you have on but he also can't do anything because now he has an identity you know of, a face you'll either love or hate. no longer be able to hide behind his mask to hit on you. truly his feelings show on his face, in his eyes, the way they stay stuck on the plush of your thighs, on the fallen strap of your top as you stand between his legs, hand on his jaw holding it up while you apply the ointment on the corner of his lips. "what were you thinking? you never got beaten this bad!" "you don't wanna know," oh how hot you are when you scold him.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who thinks he's in utopia with how you had no trouble accepting him as spiderman. even seeming more interested than ever. but no he will not get his hopes up yet.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who dies and ascends to heaven when he comes back to say goodnight and you pull down his mask to leave a kiss on his lips, "goodnight," "w-what?" "i'll see you in chem tomorrow, hm?" "yeah? yeah, right goodnight,"
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who calls you his sunflower eversince, assuming you've that kind of a situationship. his symbol of faith, positivity and hope. his corner of peace in his topsy-turvy life.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who takes you on unofficial swing dates, his mind travelling places when your body presses into his as you hold on for dear life. it's hot though the way he shoots the spider-web and swings. but it's even hotter when you're sitting in his room watching him work on upgrading his high tech suit and web formulae.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who goes "you have something here," pointing at a spot besides your lips before leaning in and leaving a soft kiss there then moving towards your lips in a pepper of more each getting convulsively harsher.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who tucks your hair behind your ear when they fall into your eyes as you speak. listening to each and everything you say and the way your lips move and your hair frames your face.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who buys you gifts and leaves them in the bookstore with short little sweet notes. who takes selfies of him in his suit half up in the air mid-swing and updates you about his day. "hey sunflower, im on my way to find this new flying green elf they say has been going around causing trouble, i'm so excited!" his voice notes sound with a quick hey watch out! or something in background as he almost falls off in the middle of the road texting you.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who videocalls you at night and watches you fall asleep as he repairs his fight damaged suits, smiling at the sight of your pouty lips and the way your cheeks squish against the pillow when you snuggle into it, wishing it was him instead.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who short-circuits and malfunctions when you find the secret folder in his laptop looking through his perfect plan to win you. but what can he do, he admits he had grown obsessed with you before he even knew it himself. "uh just, well it all worked out anyway, i didn't really have to do any of that," "just so you know, i liked you well enough as spiderman and jake. i somewhat did have some idea that you were spiderman,"
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who sometimes arrives at 'dates' hours later because "hey, sorry sunflower im running just a little late, there's a bit of traffic," speaking into the phone as he hangs on a bus mid-fight. which he actually got into while looking for wild flowers for you near the river and the villain spotted him clad in his red & blue attire after he escaped the last time owing to some defects in his suit,"jake are those sirens?" "no?" "where are you?" "five blocks away, four, three actually just gimme me two minutes i'll be there!"
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who does unexpected things to save you because you always jump in when you see him being pushed into a corner. his web sticking to the bottom of your top as he pulls you to him, hands going around your waist,"i'm gonna throw you out the window now," "wha-" before he's swinging you out. chill he'll shoot the web to help you down.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE as much as he loves you, is tired of you insisting to tag along because baby you're in too much danger in the main area "i'm coming with you!" "no you're not!" "jake!" though he loves how you want to be there for him.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who once ends up fighting a monster in the corridors of the uni and later has to hide from the others but can't seem to find the place for it when you come to the rescue and drag him into a janitor's closet in the corner. "you just kissed me," "i know" "jake we're literally hiding to save your ass," "i just couldn't help it. sorry." having your own little seven minutes in heaven in there.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who drops into your balcony at night with the excuse that's his web liquid finished or whatever that is and that he can't take the bus or the cab or walk home. ending up in your bed cuddled together after a messy makeout session. or sometimes knocking against your window all wound up, feeling slightly guilty when you wince and worry while cleaning the cuts and bruises,"are you okay? does it hurt a lot?" "m used to it," "please be careful, i hate it when you get like this," but boy his mind's somewhere else again, leaning in to kiss you, lips falling to your jaw and trailing down to the crook of your neck when you dodge it on the lips. "jake, you're injured!" "i'm sorry, sunflower. just gimme a kiss it gives me strength," "you better rip apart that lizard next time i can't see you like this," "yes love, i promise, now-" his lips capturing yours in a hard suck.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who does the iconic peter gwen kiss on the rooftop the night he has dinner with your parents after they catch you two in your room. "do you think your dad likes me?" "not too sure about that, but he'll have to deal with it, i'm not leaving you,"
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who randomly picks you up from the streets after pinging you a quick text and swings you to these special spots no one can get, high up in the air to show you the little arrangements he makes with his webs. "jake! what was that!" "didn't you get my message?" "i did but i didn't know you'd just grab me like that!" "did you like it though?" ... "yes i did," big smooch
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who even after all this is shit ton scared that'll you'll drop him if he asks you to be official. also afraid of the fact that being with him would put you in constant danger. isolating himself away from you to think it through and somewhere in him mind weighing it out that he's better out of your life than in it. it's all fun and games when it's the romance but what when you're used as his weakness?
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who has a deadly fight with the green goblin, you getting dragged into it and being attacked against before he uses all of his last strengths to defeat the villain and save you a second over death.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who realizes that at this point being without him would cost him the life of both you and him. he's too in love with you and you're too in love with him to stay apart. you're the safest by his side where he can see you and save you.
SPIDERMAN!JAKE who after the said deadly fight, the worst in his superhero career, at the verge of passing out holds onto you, hands cupping your cheeks and foreheads leaning against each other, eyes closed and deep breaths after a long kiss,"can i be your boyfriend?" SPIDERMAN!JAKE who asks to be the one for you.
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TAGLIST ( open. ) @s00buwu
1K notes · View notes
smutoperator · 1 month
Text
Love In An Elevator
Jo Hyewon (Zoa) x Male Reader
Tags: big tits, DSLs, elevator sex, facefucking, facial, fast-paced blowjob, first date, girlfriend, high-intensity sex, jerking off, long legs, pussy eating, restaurant, (lots of) riding, (lots of) spitting, teen, titfucking, visual
Word count: 4924
Zoa is a hidden gem. Her visuals are stunning. Beautiful deer-esque face, long legs, big and ripe boobs—she's got everything. You couldn't believe it when she accepted your proposal to date her. There might be idols who are more famous than her, but to you, she was the prettiest, without question.
You took Zoa to your favorite top-rated restaurant on your first date, wanting to impress her. Zoa gushed at your proposal, feeling really lucky she got to have a boyfriend who would take her to the best places and enjoy experiences she thought she never would.
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When Zoa was eating, you couldn't stop staring at her; she was just so stunningly beautiful that she demanded all of your attention at all times. But one part of her body caught your attention the most: her big and ripe boobs under her white shirt, which made it very easy for you to see. Zoa may be just an 18-year-old teenager, but her mature personality also shows off in her sexy body, with her already having the features of a fully grown adult woman. And to you, none were more noticeable than her tits.
"Let's share this moment," Zoa said, running towards the restaurant's elevator to take a picture of herself. After she was done, she sent you the selfie. You were disappointed you couldn't see her striking face, covered by her phone, but the other parts of her body looked better than ever, as you drooled over how her navel was popping out just above her jeans and how long her legs were as she took a full-body shot at the elevator. You still couldn't believe this girl was your girlfriend; she just looks so pretty. You, for sure, would go to all lengths for her. Zoa is really that girl.
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After you paid both their restaurant bills, you two entered the elevator, where she had just shared her picture, and left the restaurant. "What did you think of today's date, Zoa?" you asked her. "It was really great; I feel so overwhelmed by the way you were so kind to me and treated me like a princess," she replied. "Well, you are indeed a princess and the most beautiful woman in the whole world," you complimented her.
The elevator door closed as the machine started to go up, and you two continued to chat. The way Zoa laughed caught your attention the most; she truly had the cutest laugh you had ever heard. However, the happy mood between both of you was about to change in a hurry, as the elevator lights started to falter and suddenly the machine came to a halt.
"I'm scared," Zoa told you, as the elevator was now stuck and only the emergency lights were working. "Don't be; we'll be out of here soon," you said, trying to calm her. "I hope so; I don't like being trapped with nowhere to go," Zoa said. "I'll make sure this will go by quickly," you told her.
Easier said than done; you guys had been trapped for a while in the elevator after you said those words. The once calm and collected Zoa was starting to lose her cool, and you were running out of ways to keep your girlfriend calm. The hugs and kisses you gave her just didn't work anymore, and you could see the first tears forming in her eyes. You needed something better.
"It's getting really hot inside here; I'm starting to have a panic attack," Zoa told you. These words set your alarm bell off. You had to act quickly. At the same time, Zoa looked hotter than ever in that white shirt and jeans. But if she was feeling so much heat, you had found a solution to cool her down.
You took Zoa's jeans off, leading her at first to instantly react and cover her beautiful legs. "What are you doing, baby?" she asked. "You said it was getting too hot, so I'm helping you," you told her as you also started taking your shirt off. Zoa provided a helpful hand, and soon you were naked from the torso up while she was from her legs down.
You kept advancing on Zoa's tall, sexy body, aiming next at the spot that had taken most of your attention at the restaurant: her big and still-growing tits, sucking the area around them with her clothes still on. Meanwhile, you reached into her lower backside, running your hands all over her ass and taking her panties off. Your bulging erection under your pants was already touching the entrance of her pussy, making her moan for the first time.
More kisses ensued before you lifted Zoa's shirt slightly up, unveling her sexy belly button as you started fingering your hands all over her young pussy. With just a couple fingers inside, you were impressed by how warm and tight her hole was. You two kept kissing each other as you kept running your left hand in her legs and pussy, while she placed her right hand straight at your already throbbing boner.
Zoa increased her soft and angelic moans as you inserted a third finger in her vagina, getting louder as you started going up and down her tight pussy with them. Her legs closed around them, and she started sweating a little before you took them off her hole.
Next, you took Zoa's white shirt off, with her already unhooking her bra for you to get easier access to her big, young tits. Zoa may be the one called the giant baby, but you were the one acting like a baby, sucking her milkers in a way you had never done to your mother's. You had never seen such firm and ripe boobs like hers; truly, there isn't a single part of Zoa's body that isn't visually striking.
You kept bombarding Zoa's right boob with suckings and kisses while running your hands all over her left tit before pinning her against the elevator wall and groping both of them, leading to her giving you the biggest smile since you two had started dating. Zoa was now completely naked and submissive to you; her natural body was beautiful from head to toe, with no flaws whatsoever.
As Zoa's nipples got erect from your stimulation, you moved down her hot body, exploiting other areas. At first, you sucked the bottom of her boobs before giving a long lick between them, starting all the way down her navel and going all the way up her chest. You repeated this move multiple times, each time getting longer until you licked her from her pussy up to her mouth. Zoa being roughly the same height as you helped a lot, as once you were finished, you just needed to go down a little bit to suck her perky tits once more.
You go on your knees as Zoa spreads her left leg and her toe on the opposite wall of the elevator, while her hands hold the support with all her might as you start eating her out. After your fingers, it's your tongue that gets to know how warm Zoa's pussy is, with her enjoying every second of it as her moans get more and more frequent. 
You run your tongue all over Zoa's pink teen pussy, exploiting her folds to the fullest. You start wondering which lips are better, the ones in her mouth or the ones between her legs, as you worship her pussy and move your tongue faster and faster over it. Zoa gets overwhelmed by the speed at which you eat her folds out, turning herself into a moaning machine as you keep going on.
You start making different moves all over Zoa's pussy, kissing it and spitting on it as well. But as she gets wetter inside, your urge to fuck her pussy grows. But first, you go back to do so with your fingers, making her squirt her teen juices all over them. "Oh Shit," Zoa curses and finally says something. As you simultaneously tongue her clit while penetrating her, her moans get louder, and she almost loses her balance. Sensing she is getting wetter and warmer, you increase the pace of your finger-fucking, pushing your beautiful girlfriend to the limit.
"Fuck. AHHHHH!" Zoa screams as you go full-speed with both your hands and mouth. Her pink pussy had never been stimulated like this before, as she has to use all her strength in that confined space she finds herself in not to fall down. But you don't stop, twisting your fingers inside Zoa's pussy and keeping an eye out for different angles to attack her warm hole before pulling out and going all-in with your mouth as you grab her legs and pin her down even further against the elevator wall.
You reach for Zoa's left boob as you keep eating her out. Her soft milkers are perfect for getting groped and honked hard, and her nipples are harder than ever. "Please, please," Zoa begs as you show no signs of slowing down, worshipping her hot body and especially her warm pussy. 
"Yes, oh fuck," Zoa says as you move your fingers back inside her pussy, which is now a dripping wet mess. "Yes, keep going," she continues as she closes her eyes, her athletic figure trembling as you put her close to cum with just your hands and mouth. "Oh my God, shit" she continues as you finger-fuck her faster than ever, panting and moaning and grabbing her boobs, just trying to survive your early attacks.
You kiss and worship Zoa's perfect pussy, now also fondling her tits at the same time, paying extra attention to her nipples as you touch them nonstop. You then attack her clit with your tongue, challenging Zoa to stay with her leg up as you see her body shaking harder than ever. Zoa tries not to lose her breath, her body aching with pleasure at each tonguing you give her. But she can't last for long, as you go back with all your four fingers inside her, twisting them all over her pussy and finally making her cum for good.
As Zoa releases her juices out of her pussy, you worship it with tons of kisses, then move up her body to lick her fit belly, giving special attention to her navel. As you fully get up to kiss her and grope her big tits, Zoa starts unhooking your belt and taking more initiative, quickly unleashing your big cock out of your pants.
Zoa gets on her knees and furiously sucks your dick. You can tell she's not that experienced, going very aggressive on your shaft and popping it in and out of her mouth. But that's not important to you, as her mouth is even warmer than her pussy and watching that doe-eyed deer with those amazing dick sucking lips work on that prick is extremely hot. Zoa keeps licking your shaft and sucking your tip hard, her lips fully wrapped around your pole as her head starts bobbing. "Keep sucking it, keep sucking it," you tell her as she looks up and gives you a naughty stare and jerks your shaft, driving you insane with her speed. She puts just the tip inside her mouth, but that's enough to send shivers down your spine.
Zoa gets sloppier and bobs her head deeper against your cock. "Oh yes." You approve of her blowjob skills just as she gags and opens her big eyes, spitting on that dick shortly after. Her fast-paced work on your cock continues as she jerks it off frenetically before using her mouth to warm your shaft up, bobbing hard as one of her hands grabs your thighs and the other grabs your balls.
As Zoa gags on your cock, a string of saliva connects her DSLs to your throbbing tip. Your relief is short as she goes back to attack, doing to your cock what you did to her pussy: licking, sucking, throating, spitting, and using every move she knows. It's even better when she does all that with her big eyes wide open, staring at you, as you can watch her sexy empressions while sucking you off.
You can't resist for long, grabbing Zoa's head to start fucking her face as your cock rips through her DSLs, tying her hair up with your own hands to see more of her beautiful face gagging on that dick and her doe eyes rolling out of pleasure. As soon as Zoa coughs on your cock, you rattle it inside her mouth, hitting her warm walls left and right before she finally pulls out of it and gives a massive spit on your shaft, going back right after as you grab her hair and dunk her face against your balls multiple times, teaching her not to be such an aggressive cock-sucking whore as you spit in her mouth right after.
Zoa makes a mess out of your cock as the facefucking continues, her chin full of saliva that drips out of her mouth as she gets sloppier and sloppier and turns your dick into a wet mess of spit. Now it's your turn to get aggressive, as you grab her head hard and thrust inside her mouth as if you were pounding her pussy full speed, moving your hips at a fast pace as you place your right foot right at the elevator wall, and splitting her dick sucking lips open with no room for any air to enter her mouth.
After rattling your cock inside her mouth once more, you kiss Zoa passionately, tasting her sloppy and cock-flavored mouth to the fullest. Zoa kept jerking you off as you were doing it, and as soon as you pulled out of her mouth, she got back into her aggressive cock-sucking, trying to prove to you she could be your cute-looking, slutty girlfriend. "Holy shit," you said as Zoa engulfed your balls and took your cock full length in her mouth for a few seconds before her lack of experience did her in and made her gag and get out of breath. And every time she pulled out of your cock, she spat on it, quickly turning it into her signature move.
Zoa kept bobbing hard on your cock and filling it full of saliva. You couldn't complain, as you weren't going to need any lube to enter her tight, warm pussy soon after, just letting her do it as she pleased and getting your cock wet and sloppy. "Bad girl," you said as you got back to fuck her face, and once she gagged, you gave it a lot of slapping with your dick, showing her who was the real boss. "You really like to spit on that cock, don't you, you tall young whore?" you asked her, noticing how often she did it.
As Zoa got up, still jerking your cock off, you spat in her mouth. "You are getting too slutty for my liking," you poke at her, even though you really enjoyed it. "Now turn around," you say as you pin her against the elevator wall. Zoa knows what's coming, lifting her long left leg once again and placing her left foot and right hand on the elevator's handrail. In just a couple seconds, your wet cock easily slides inside her tight teen pussy. "Oh fuck, oh shit" Zoa says as she feels your shaft penetrating her.
Knowing she had already shown how much of a whore she is, you give Zoa no room to breathe, attacking her tight pussy hard from the start and kissing her as you pump her warm hole. "Ah, ah, ah, ah," Zoa softly moans as you turn her into your cocksleeve, fingering herself to get that extra pleasure, now holding both hands against the handrail to take the pounding you are giving her. "FUCK!" she screams as her cheeks start to clap and you grab her tiny waist for a better grip, manhandling her pussy full speed. "SHIT," she keeps screaming as you get addicted to her pussy and can't stop fucking her hard. Even though her insides are perfect, Zoa is truly a flawless woman, the daughter of Venus, the goddess of love.
Zoa has a hard time staying up in just one foot; you fuck her so hard she has to cling onto every support of the elevator, which itself starts to swing a little with the force of your rough poundings on her. "Yes, oh yes, oh yes," she says as you spank her ass and show no signs of slowing down. You had never fucked a girl on your first date, and the thought of fucking her in such an unconventional space turned you on a lot.
"Shit, you're fucking me so hard; don't stop," Zoa told you. And no, you were not going to stop. If it depended on you, that elevator would never go back to work again, and you'd just fuck Zoa to eternity. As you start groping her tits and add extra stimulation, Zoa spreads her cheeks to ease the pressure on her already tightening walls that you kept shaping to the format of your cock.
Zoa's left leg finally gives in as she places it back on the ground, giving you a better angle to grab her butt and hold it as you keep fucking her, now in a standing doggy position that made her look so submissive and slutty, as her vocabulary got reduced to just three words: fuck, shit, and yes.
You kept spreading Zoa's ass cheeks and pumping her warm pussy hard while also grabbing her hair and making those cheeks clap at each thrust, discovering how quickly a teen pussy can turn into an addiction that can make even the calmest men turn into raging animals who furiously pound them. Zoa gets firmly grabbed by the waist as you destroy her fuckhole nonstop, testing how hard this young whore could take your big cock fucking the shit out of her. Meanwhile, Zoa's big, ripe melons are now swinging hard, giving you the perfect opportunity to grope them and feel how hard they try to escape from your grasp every time you pound her.
Zoa regains her strength and lifts her leg up again, allowing your cock to penetrate her even easier. She gets very needy and clingy, turning her cute face in your direction and hugging you as you are still fucking her hard, looking for you to kiss her as much as you can. As much as Zoa may love your cock, she loves your touch and kisses even more, and she just wants to be a good girlfriend. And you give her what she wants: kisses up top, dick at the bottom, making the elevator make a lot of noise as you two hit its walls with your intense fucking.
As you're finally done pounding Zoa, she turns around and gives you a torrid kiss. "Am I a good girlfriend?" she ponders in her head. But you don't give her many seconds to think, instantly lifting her body up and pinning her back against the elevator's wall, forcing her to hold both hands hard into the handrail as you fuck her in a face-to-face position with both her feet up in the air.
"Oh yeah," Zoa says as she fingers her pussy and her feet reach the wall on the other side, landing close to the elevator's buttons. You truly couldn't do this position with a girl shorter than her, feeling blessed for Zoa being so tall and perfect for it.
"You don't get to have it so easy," you tell her, placing her right leg over your shoulder instead and pressing her even further against the wall, giving her a rough but very passionate missionary fucking that sends her over the moon, with Zoa giving you a kiss every time she's not moaning like a submissive slut. "AHHHHH!" Zoa's loud screams come along with the loud noises of her body banging against the elevator's wall as she gets ragdolled and enjoys it to the fullest.
It turns out such a position ends up being too demanding, not only for her but for you as well, as you get Zoa back on her feet and compensate her with another passionate kiss. This time, you let her fully spread her legs and hook them to opposite sides of the elevator, giving you the perfect view of her body, but especially her face, tits, pussy and thighs as you resume fucking her, now with one hand grabbing her head to kiss her and another groping her tits.
Zoa gets increasingly clingy, hugging you and pushing your body even closer to hers. She wants your touch, your cock, to be your cute girlfriend but also your slutty fucktoy. As the hard pounding finally starts to get you tired, you decide to try something different: lying on the elevator's floor as you look up at her goddess-esque tall body, sliding just under her long legs.
You don't even need to give a command; Zoa already knows what to do. She moves a couple steps and squats down your cock, letting herself get fully impaled. At first, you think of telling her to turn around to see her face as she rides you, but as soon as Zoa starts clapping those cheeks against your hips, you feel very appreciative of the back view she gives you, enjoying her beautiful long hair, her toned ass, and her sexy back to the fullest.
Zoa shows no mercy for your cock, riding it hard from the start. "OH MY GOD," she suddenly finds herself screaming, but doesn't slow down. She wants to prove to herself that she can tame any cock. Her moans get louder and screamier as you grind your teeth, trying to hold as hard as you can not to shoot inside her warm hole. Her tits get very bouncy, but you can't see them, and she uses the handrail to her advantage, holding onto it as she keeps bouncing on your cock.
"Wow, I never knew you could ride a dick like that," you tell her. Truth be told, not even Zoa did. Her moves are very spontaneous, the ones of a girl still discovering the pleasures and intrincacies of sex. At times, your cock feels like it's too much for her still-young and unexperienced self, but she's a strong girl ready to blossom and won't stop. The more she feels challenged, the more she wants to ride you, and the harder she goes.
Zoa stays on course; she knows that the elevator won't be turned off for long and wants to bounce as many times on your cock as she can. She starts fingering her pussy, getting wetter, and allowing your prick to slide up and down her easier. "Ah, God," she moans, riding it as fast as she can. The more you hit her sensitive cervix, the better.
You can't be just a bystander to Zoa's pleasure and decide to teach her a lesson, lifting both her legs up and regaining control of the pounding. "Oh yeah," Zoa says as you start pumping her hard back again and destroying her pussy, which has become an addiction to you. The warmth of her hole makes you go feral once more, pounding Zoa balls deep and making your cock fully disappear inside her vagina. It turns out she really likes it rough, as her cunt gets much juicer the moment you go back to manhandle her.
Zoa's pussy burns and clenches all over your cock, forcing you to pull out quickly after just a couple minutes of pounding not to cum inside her. Maybe you need to take it slow. As she turns around, she goes back to sitting on that cock, allowing you to have a full frontal view of her perfect body. "Just ride it as hard as you can," you ask her as you spank her ass. Zoa obliges, this time tilting her body as she clings onto yours and bumps her bouncy chest against it.
"GOD!" Zoa screams as you keep hitting her ass and turning it red, but that only makes her increase her intensity and go full speed against your throbbing pole, bouncing on it as if she wants to snap it in half. "Whoa," you say as Zoa now pushes you to the limit—that perfect, tight pussy biting your cock and sliding up and down—is really just too much for you.
You push your cock up Zoa's pink pussy and put a pair of fingers up her asshole, attempting to slow her down, but she won't cave this time. Zoa wants that cock deep in her pussy at all costs and keeps bouncing. Her hair covers her face, she grabs the handrail hard, and one of her hands is now in her ass to provide her with some extra impulse. "Holy shit," you say as Zoa keeps smashing your cock like nothing. You just decide to grab her by the waist and aid her, pushing her body down your shaft with even more speed, even if it makes you give in and cum inside her.
Zoa's tits are like a pair of pinballs bouncing hard as she places her hands on your chest and stares at you. Her doe eyes are fully bright; she hasn't felt this excited in a long time. Even as you push her closer to you and tilt her body sideways, she never stops. "Fuck, fuck, yes, I want that cock deep in my pussy," she tells you as her cheeks make a loud noise, clapping on your balls.
"Bad girl," you say once again as you slap her ass. Zoa agrees; she's a bad girl, a cock-craving slut, and a teen whore. As she pulls out of your cock a little bit, you think her bombardment is over, but after just two seconds, she has already regained strength to sit back on that cock. It's the only thing she wants now: cock, cock, and more cock. "OH. GOD. FUCK. AH. SHIT." These are the only words that come from Zoa's mouth, as she keeps using your chest as an impulse for her crazy bouncing.
More than 10 minutes have passed, and Zoa just doesn't seem to stop. You push up once again and try to challenge her, as one of her hands is still on the handrail while the other holds your body, but Zoa has won the battle. The truth is, you can never challenge a K-pop idol when it comes to stamina. It's futile.
As Zoa finally climbs out of your cock, she still has her hands on it, always jerking it off at every chance she gets. You stand up to kiss her, still recovering from her crazy ride, but she never gets her tiny hands out of that dick, getting on her knees shortly after to taste her pussy from it, her doe eyes looking more focused than ever. With the way she gags on it, takes it deep in her throat, and jerks it off, it's like your ride never ended. But you can't lie, you love how aggressive she is, taking every second of this elevator fuck session as if it were the last. "Oh yes, fuck," you say as Zoa engulfs that pole all the way deep in her throat in a way many seasoned veterans would be unable to.
"Fuck my face again," she says. Suddenly, that little inexperienced teen is long gone, and she is now giving you orders. She should really respect your seniority, shouldn't she? But you said to hell with it and just gave Zoa what she wanted. You just couldn't say no to the most beautiful woman on the planet, grabbing her head and shoving your big cock down those DSLs until she coughs.
You move back to the elevator's floor, and Zoa follows you as you now penetrate her in a spooning position. Romantic kisses up top and hard pumpings at the bottom ensue. One of your hands grabs her boobs, the other her neck. Zoa can only say "yes" at each pumping and moan like a whore, especially after you move your hands down her body all the way into her wet pussy. You have to grab her long legs to go faster, putting her on the edge. Her pussy tightens as you choke her and muffle her moans with your thumb in her mouth.
You keep pumping Zoa nonstop. "Right there, right there," she says before screaming hard as she cums. She then ties her hair up and gets on her knees, placing her big tits right between your dick and moving them up and down your shaft as you passively watch, searching for that cum. "You want my cum, you little whore?" you ask her. "Yes, baby, all over my pretty face," she says, keeping her aggressive titfucking session going. As you were already on the edge, she promptly gets her wish as seven gravity-defying shots cover her beautiful face full of sperm.
Zoa doesn't even get to enjoy the massive cumshot you gave her, as the elevator starts working again shortly after, leading both of you to get dressed in a hurry and act like nothing happened, with her cleaning her face of your cum just in time to emerge out of it.
It's going to be hard to top your first date.
687 notes · View notes
whywishesarehorses · 2 years
Text
Pensioner sets off on 600-mile pony trek with pet dog in saddlebag
Jane Dotchin, 80, has been making the unusual journey from Northumberland to the Highlands since 1972. (Story from STV News)
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An 80-year-old woman who wears an eyepatch is on an annual trek with her pony from England to the Highlands – on a seven-week adventure which began in 1972.
Jane Dotchin packs her saddlebags onto her trusty pony’s back every year, and heads to the hills from her home near Hexham, Northumberland, on an epic 600-mile trek to Inverness, covering between 15 and 20 miles a day.
She set off on August 31 with her steed, Diamond, aged 13, and her disabled Jack Russell named Dinky for company, from the off-grid smallholding where she lives.
She carries everything she needs including her tent, food and just a few belongings – and despite wearing an eyepatch is determined to continue as long as she can.
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Ms Dotchin said: “My mother would look after my other ponies but she wasn’t that keen on looking after my Halfinger stallion, so I rode him down to Somerset to see a friend, which is about 300 miles.
“It was a bit of a hard slog, but it was good.”
After that initial journey, she caught the taste for the open road and travelled to visit friends near Fort Augustus, near Loch Ness, every autumn since.
The journey takes around seven weeks depending on weather and Ms Dotchin tries to stop off to see people she has met over the years.
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She said: “I refuse to go slogging on through pouring wet rain.
“There are a few different routes I can take depending on the weather.
“I don’t want to go over hilltops in foul weather, but I work it out on the way.
“I don’t bother with maps, I just keep to the routes I know.
“It is nice to go and see [people] again – I ring them up in the morning to say I’m going to be there in the evening.
“I don’t warn them too far in advance, because if the weather suddenly changes or I decide to stop early then they can be left wondering where I’ve got to.”
Disabled Jack Russell Dinky, who has deformed front legs, travels in a saddle bag.
Ms Dotchin said: “She manages fine, when there is a nice grassy track she gets out and has a run, but she doesn’t like stoney ground but she is a nice hot water bottle for me in the tent.”
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She said: “I asked for something good and solid in my old age and he got me a cob from Ireland. I struggle to get on her half the time, but otherwise I manage fine.”
Her diet consists of porridge oats, oatcakes and cheese which is bought at local shops.
She prefers to make porridge with milk, but water will suffice.
Ms Dotchin added: “You can always boil it from a stream.”
Her bathroom habits are equally DIY, and she said: “I dig a hole.”
Ms Dotchin is devastated by the littering she has seen over the years and said Cumbernauld, North Lanarkshire, is somewhere she finds “shameful” due to the amount of rubbish.
She said: “It’s appalling, in particular single used barbecues which are left lying all over the place.
“Cumbernauld is the fly-tipping capital of Britain.
“There are some lovely people there who let me camp, but some of it is so disgusting and shameful.”
Campervans on single track roads have also become a more persistent problem.
She said: “Drivers just didn’t seem to know how wide they were, I was forever just about getting swept off the roads by them.”
The right to roam has helped with countryside access, but she said: “There are still some locked gates or little side gates that you can’t get a horse with packs on through.”
For emergencies she carries an old mobile phone as the battery lasts six weeks.
Ms Dotchin said: “I keep it switched off and just ring out to ring up landowners to get gates unlocked or to warn people when I’m coming but sometimes the trouble is getting a signal.”
During the foot and mouth crisis in 2001 she went on bicycle instead.
She said: “I covered many more miles with the dog in a pannier but it was not the same, I missed my horse.”
In recognition of her independent spirit, and many years of long distance trekking, she received The British Horse Society lifetime achievement award last year, which she said was “a bit of a surprise.”
During her travels she witnesses rutting deer and stags fighting in the autumn, and foxes.
She said: “There is always something interesting happening and there is never a dull moment.
“I will probably be stopped one of these days.”
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mphountitled · 7 months
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𝘽𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙤𝙤𝙩𝙝 | 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝘾. 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣
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𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘼 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨.
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗟𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝗳𝘄𝗯, 𝗙𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳, 𝗢𝘃𝗲𝗿-𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲, 𝗠𝘂𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗣𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗦𝗺𝘂𝘁 (+𝟭𝟴) 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜, 𝗗𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗣𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗦𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗘𝘅𝗵𝗶𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸, 𝗩𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗦𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗗𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗸, 𝗦𝘂𝗯!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿, 𝗗𝗼𝗺!𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗻, 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲'𝘀 𝘃𝗶𝗯𝗲
𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝘿𝙇𝙂 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙙𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙮 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚
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For the longest time, you had been quite comfortable viewing yourself as an independent career woman. Thank you very much. Many men had tried and failed to sway you from the retches of your passions and projects and passion projects, respectively -Changbin being onesuch romantic endevour that had failed to shine in the shadow of your work.
No amount of dick could keep you away from the studio, nestled in a stuffy booth with your notepad opened on your lap filled with slightly manic notes and lyrics.
No one truly understood that until him.
"Okay, yeah, no. I can't do this," You watched Changbin gather his belongings with incredulous eyes.
"You're abandoning me?" You screech, fumbling to take off your headphones. "We haven't even perfected the chorus yet, and you're abandoning me?"
Changbin's hair is in complete disarray as he types hurriedly on his phone, leaving you to watch from inside the booth. "While you re-record and re-record an already perfect record, my stomach has growled 5 times-"
You roll your eyes, "Binnie, food is for the weak. We can do this."
"I can't," He shook his head, evading eye contact as he pulled on his letterman jacket, effectively stowing away the view of his muscles and evidently, your will to work.
Changbin finally spared you a tired look as he said, "But maybe he can. You psychos can starve yourselves together."
It is only then that you noticed a figure haunting the open doorway. Changbin had conjured a brand new producer with wayward black curls with a single tap on his iPhone screen. The man lifts his hand in a passive greeting.
"Hiya," He had said, before taking Changbin's spot on the sonic board. "I'm Chan."
You had never met anyone as sonically obsessed as you are, until you were acquainted with Changbin's colleague. Bang Christopher Chan, would quickly become not only your disgustingly talented and driven producer but also a friends with added benefits. Before you knew it, every recording session was filled with your thoughts bleeding into unfamiliar and frankly perplexing thoughts of overanalyzing how attractive he looked when he runs his hand through his hair during spells of frustration- or when he got the incomparable burst of genius to freestyle over a beat as if it was a long lost friend. Nothing could sway you from finding your producer attractive and you were okay with that fact...
You couldn't retain satisfactory orgasms from your music, could you?
"What would really be sexy is if you added the last word of the verse, ad libitum." You're immediately brought back to the present. "So if you said 'cash' but with like a higher pitch in between the chorus and the second verse. I think that would be great," You realize you had taken to swaying in one spot and quickly correct yourself as you placed your hands on your headphones and nod, vaguely agreeing but never really hearing anything after the words 'sexy'. Hearing anything suggestive falling from Chan's plump lips at this very moment would send your imagination hurtling into the fiery pits of hell. Him, staring at you so intensely through the glass and behind the soundboard, left you unable to focus.
"Honey?" He says, with a finger on the intercom. "Do you get me?" He asks in a tone so sickeningly innocent it almost makes you feel guilty... until his next string of words.
"If you do, I'm gonna need to hear you use your words, okay?" With his eyes fixed solely on you, waiting patiently for your compliance, you are convinced he was literally and figuratively trying to kill you. It would be devastingly easy given that the two of you were the only two left in the studio. Zero witnesses.
"Sorry," You say, trying to dispute how heavily his words weighed down on you, "I'm thinking about all the babies that die in between you purposely using the words ad libitum instead of ad lib." Saving yourself with swift and easy rebuttal had always been a specialty...
"Sorry, sorry!" Said Chan, "Didn't know we were opting for plebian speak this evening," He says with a chuckle before waving his hand, "Continue."
But it was incredibly difficult to continue with your mind and all its unsavory thoughts seeping out of your skull and straight into your lyrics. Perhaps working on the more explicit songs with Chan had been an utterly dire decision, one that practically solidified your downfall.
As you rattle through the lyrics, you make sure to keep a firm gaze on him. Chan maintains eye contact from behind the glass, giving nothing away under his black cap, clad in his short sleeve black shirt and his all black attire.
The dimness of the studio suddenly feels too dim. This 'mood' that Chan had strived to create in the peroration of your session is suddenly working too well.
Soon, the track is being replaced by Chan's slightly gruff voice echoing in your headphones.
"Sorry to cut you off, baby girl," The coolness with which he utters the nickname releases a wave of arousal in your core, and you inadvertently cross your legs in front of you, "I just want you to take note of something for me real quick..." For a moment you’re only nodding slowly, waiting for him to continue, but he never does. Chan sits silently, staring at you with yet another earth-shattering, unwavering gaze. You're confused, which Chan would have found incredibly adorable if you weren't purposely being incredibly difficult this evening. Demanding artists were his specialty, but you presented an entirely new set of challenges.
"I said take of note of something for me, please." He finally lifts his hand, making vague scribbles into the air. His voice is strained, as if he's withholding himself from scolding you too visciously. In fear of not only your reaction but his in return.
"Christopher." You drawl incredulously, "You seriously want me to actually write this down?"
He only responds with a succinct, I-dare-you-to-argue-with-me, "Please."
You make a petulant display of rolling your eyes before sitting down on the single metal stool kept in the booth. His chuckles bleed into your headphones, disrupting your nonverbal tantrum when he says, "You really are trying it today..."
"Maybe if I had someone to correct this attitude, we wouldn't have found ourselves here, would we?" You mutter the sentence as you're staring into you notepad, completely evading his heated gaze. Silence grows pregnant between the two of you before Chan continues.
"Alright. I'd like you to take note of the brisk allegro that erupts in the pre-chorus," He spins his pen between his fingers as he reads from his own notes. He looks absolutely worn out and so unmistakably beautiful it makes you want to scream.
"I think that part in particular might be vital in solidifying the overall kick of the actual chorus." Not to mention, seeing him in work mode tickled your ovaries in ways you could never have foreseen. In the studio, you had always been the one wading through the laziness of others, picking up the slack where needed and making it your obligation to ignite your producers with the zeal to work with your meticulous ass. But Chan had turned the tables and for the very first time you find yourself unable to think about work.
"Christopher," You send him a bored expression, "I literally make slut music, do you really need to be calling it an allegro?"
He is quick in pressing the intercom to clap back, "Thots and sluts deserve a well mastered allegro too, don't you think?" You're only left to slump your shoulders as Christopher continues. By this point, you know that he knows exactly what you want for him, why you're being particularly difficult, why you were fighting him on every term but for some unexplainable reason, he's keeping you from it.
"So a dry signal is a pure unprocessed sound, like a vocal recorded as is, and a wet signal is a sound with cool effects on it like we did for 'Drive'."
You inhale sharply, raising a finger into the air, to which, Chan completely ignores you, keeping his eyes on his notes, his black curls brushing along his eyes.
"And if you're gonna say 'I could tell you something else that's wet' don't bother, because you'll only get muted."
Your shoulders once again sag, and you find yourself audibly whimpering into the mic. That quickly catches Christopher's attention, and you're left wading in the scrutiny of his gaze.
"Fuck, I can't work with you like this." He rakes his fingers through his wayward curls, forcing you to rub your exposed thighs under your miniskirt together for the umpteenth time. "Tell me what you need."
"You know what I need..."
He curses under his breath before sending a worried gaze over his shoulder and you realize you have won. It was custom for Chan to stare worriedly at the door, as if terrified that Changbin might storm into the studio, face crimson and finding his best friend not only fucking the object of his interest but dominating her.
"I've been rapping about dicks and vaginas the entire time, Chan, you can't tell me you're not a little turned on yourself at this point." You're quite literally the snake tempting Eve in the garden and he sends another helpless glance at the door before complying.
"A-Alright. Come out here for me real quick," this is what excited you most about Chan. Hearing the trepidation in his voice mixed with excitement and nervousness and his inmate, need to be dominant... it concoted a dizzying amalgamation.
"Where is this attitude coming from?" He asks once you appear by in front of his seat, inching towards him as if terrified by your own creation. He does not bother to get up, does not bother to tell you stand in front of him, in between his legs.
You just do.
It's as if he's saying 'Do what you want. You're your own person.' Knowing full well how effortlessly you tended to submit to him.
"And if I check, am I gonna find you wet?" Chan is slow to closing the notebook on his lap and putting it vaguely near the soundboard without ever taking his eyes off You.
You can see the dark half moons underneath his eyes, stabbing at, not only your arousal, but your innate need to just take care of him. His eyes remain focused on you as he moves to clamp his hand on your exposed thigh, watching your lips part ever so slightly.
"Consider this a brief, very brief recess."
"Yes sir," You had intended for the words to come off more teasingly than it actually did, but it runs straight through to Chan's dick and he's removing his hands from your skin like you have mustered the ability to spontaneously catch on fire.
"Fuck," he replies, sending one more gaze at the door before looking at you once more. With a shaky breath escaping through his lips, he looks utterly wrecked and completely conflicted. You let him wade through the motions without any input in fact, you just stand there, waiting patiently for his next command.
Christopher sits back in his seat, running both hands down his face before saying, "Fuck, alright. Take off your panties for me..." You more than speedily oblige as you hook your fingers into the sides of your pink laced panties, slowly dragging them down as you and Chan both watch each other with steel gazes.
"Fuck, you're so beautiful," His resolve melts when his eyes skim down to the sight of your ruined underwear. He notices far too quickly that it's his favorite pair, eliciting another wavering breath from him as his other hand clamps around your thigh to pull you impossibly closer.
"You planned this, didn't you?" You can feel the warmth of his shallow breathing as he places his forehead on your abdomen, while he brings his fingers up to your lips.
"Open your mouth for me..." You automatically obey, bringing your mouth around his middle and index fingers. For a short while, he remains with his face hidden in your dress as you suck, almost petulantly on his fingers. Perhaps he feels a mixture of shame for enjoying this entire scene far too much, and soon, he feels he has to peel his face away from your dress to watch you suck so prettily on his fingers.
"F-fuck, baby," His voice is strained between a mixture of a coo and a moan as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, "My baby." His hands almost immediately delve underneath your skirts slotting them inside your drenched cunt. He is utterly ruthless as he sits on the edge of his seat, one hand claimed around your thigh as his fingers fuck in and out of you with absolute vigor. The man is utterly overcome with lust, sporting his own hard on in his joggers as he looks up at you and says, "Come on, baby... Say it for me, you know you want to."
His voice is dripping with sex and your mind is completely blown with pleasure as you throw your head back. It is a mystery how you're still standing, but Chan's grip on your hip is concrete.
"Oh God daddy- your fingers feels so good inside me, Fuck." He rewards you by letting his fingers drift over your swollen clit, racking another torrid moan from your throat as he begins to circle it with purpose. You clamp your hand against Chan's hunched shoulders, his face once again buried in your dress.
"I just wanna take care or my little angel don't I?" He's an incoherent, mumbling mess, his words as sloppy as the hands sliding against your clit, "But she makes it difficult when she's being a stuck up little brat," Your head is still craned back while his face is buried against your abdomen and it is as if you both cannot muster to truly see yourselves in such a depraved, animalistic state.
"You're squeezing my fingers baby- Fuck, is this how bad you needed me?" Chan finally cranes back to look up at you. His cheeks are ruddy and his hooded eyes are blown into saucers, "It's so fucking distracting having you so close to me."
Chan's cap is long gone, strewn on the floor somewhere with your fingers burried in his curls. You harnass your little bit of power to crane his head up at you, and he lets you- using this moment to speak directly into your soul. "You know when you're really needy like this, all you have to do is ask, baby. You know Daddy loves taking care of his baby, don't you?" You nearly cum then and there.
"Please daddy-"
"F-Fuck I didn't plan on fucking you today, least of all here. But I really need you right now, alright pretty girl?" Your body shudders at the loss of his fingers inside you, one more flick against your clit and you would have cum everywhere.
"Bend over for me, yeah? Mind the sound board though, baby girl." Chan finally rises from his chair, immediately cupping your face with his hands as he dips his head down to you and places a peck on your lips. "I just wanna feel my baby girl squirm around me-" that particular string of words have you whimpering incoherently as Chan crowds behind you, pushing you up against the desk. Your hands grip the edge, careful not to temper with any sonic equipment as Chan raises your dress lightly. His hand grazes your bare ass and you're sent reeling as your own anxieties begin to set in. You're made strikingly aware that you had never actually had sex in the studio. Lightly touching and horny pawing at each other is the most that has ever been achieved within these four walls but going all the way...
"Chris can we-"
"Shh- it's okay." He says, as if reading your thoughts, "It's totally fine, barely anyone's here. They all left-" while he coos in your ear, you feel Chan lightly push you further over the desk. "Holy fucking shit." His curses bring your mind to unholy places, being someone that rarely ever swears. Chan is absolutely far gone as he is quick to bring his cock out of his sweat pants until he eases into you without a second thought.
"I need you to call me daddy again." He admits as he begins fucking you with absolute fervour. His hand is on your hip, forcing you to take each and every inch of him.
"F-fuck," is all you're able to say as he bottoms out inside of you. Your walls contract around him, stopping him for pulling out too far, and only swallowing him deeper until the head of his cock is pushing up against a bundle of sensitive nerves deep inside your core. You're left to squeeze your own breasts as Chan fucks you from behind, lost in the haze of chasing his own orgasm.
"Baby, if you want me to cum quick enough, I need you to call me Daddy in that sexy fucking voice of yours. Tell me how good I make you feel."
"F-Fuck daddy you make me feel s-so fucking good. Only you can- Only you can make me feel like this," Your panting and your tits are bouncing as Chan begins to rut against you with little to no more constraint. He's attacking that inherent need that had been blossoming since the start of your session, completely wrecking you I'm search of the ultimate satisfaction. Chan's hands are as restless as his hips and his words flow like an angry river. You feel so tight around him. His perfect little girl.
Those words alone, playing in his head like a broken record have his cock twitching inside of you.
"No one slese can make you feel this good." His eyes are half crescents as he says, "Tell me you love me baby,"
"I love you, daddy- I fucking need you-" it is outrageously difficult to form a coherent sentence but Chan does not seem to mind. In fact, it appears as though he prefers it when you're a blundering mess. It affirms that he fucks you so good your smart little brain is simply unable to think about anything beyond the bounds of pleasure.
"Oh-fuck I'm going to c-cum" He exclaism behind you with eyes squeezed shut before forcing them open. "Where?" he asks in a solid yet wavering voice. You feel your own orgasm on simmering inside of you and youre utterly embarrassed to find that you might cum from being pounded by his cock alone with little to no stimulation against your clit. "Inside me, Daddy"
"Oh-god, oh fuck," Your words, the way you say it, your use of the honorific- it's makes him cum without him even noticing it.
Being so crudely filled up by him jump starts your own orgasm and it blazes through you like a million sun's burning in your core all at once. His cum completely fills your insides, too the point that it begins to feel too full. Droplets of pearly white cum seep out of your vagina and Christopher is absolutely enamored. "Jesus fucking Christ." He whispers, still watching his cum seep out if you.
"Language, Chris." You jest before craning your head back to look at his unimpressed visage and unruly curls.
"Back to work, baby girl." He taps lightly at your bum before pulling your skirt down.
"Chan..." you turn to watch him pull his cap over hus head once more before wiping his hands with wet wipes.
"Hm?" He says.
"My underwear." You say, scanning the studio for any traces of the pink material but coming up empty.
"Get back in the booth." Is all he says.
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I'm way too subby for this
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atomicami · 4 months
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comfort crowd
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boyfriend’s mom!abby anderson x fem!reader
- summary: you’ve been dating your boyfriend for 2 years now, until all of a sudden he starts to act differently around you. one night, you come over to his place to see him, only to discover that he’s out cheating on you with another girl. as a result, you receive comfort from the person you’d least expect—his mother.
- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, older/milf!abby, age gap (reader is 20, abby is 38), reader is in college, owen (he is mentioned a lot but does not make an appearance), mentions of past teen pregnancy, abby and owen are divorced, infidelity/cheating, reader has her first intimate experience with a woman, kinda softdom!abby, oral & fingering (r!receiving), squirting, scissoring, slight edging, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else
- author’s note: it’s finally here, sorry this one took me so long…i’ve been a bit nervous to do this pairing but it did win the poll i posted a while back so yeah…i also have to say that this fic took a lot of work and effort for me to write out, so i really hope y’all enjoy it 🤍
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You were wishing that your suspicions about your boyfriend weren’t true.
A little over two years ago was when you first met Andrew Anderson-Moore. It was during your senior year of high school and your family had just moved to the city as a result of a job offer that your father had received. Having to start over at a new school was scary for you, but meeting Andrew made that experience a little better.
The two of you connected instantly, and it didn’t take long for you both to start dating and make it official. On your first month anniversary of being together, you two decided to introduce each other to your families. You brought Andrew to meet both of your parents first, and he brought you to meet his dad first before meeting his mom a week later.
Now you’re in your third year of college, still maintaining your loyalty towards him, and you still keep in touch with his parents as well, preferably with his mom, Abigail.
You enjoyed being with Abigail just as much as you did with your boyfriend. She was always so attentive and caring towards you, she treated you as if you were her own. Ever since Andrew had introduced you to her, you’d always make sure to be formal towards her no matter what, even though she could truly care less about it.
“Hi, Ms. Anderson, it’s nice to meet you,” you tell her kindly, removing yourself from your boyfriend’s embrace to shake her hand.
She flashes a smile back at you as she shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, sweetheart, there’s no need to be so formal though,” she tells you.
“Oh I’m sorry, Abigail—“
“Abby.” She corrects you. “Abby is just fine.”
You simply nod at her in response.
“Alright then, Abby.”
After dinner had passed that day, and you were bringing all the dishes to the sink to wash them, you ended up overhearing Abby say this to her son:
“Make sure you treat her well, Andrew. She’s a sweet girl, definitely a keeper.”
Even though you figured that Abby would be nothing more to you than your boyfriend’s mother, the way she said that to Andrew made you feel unusual inside…But you figured that you were feeling that way simply because it was just a genuine compliment from her.…right?
Since that day, you’ve been close with Abby since then, and Andrew has managed to treat you like royalty.
That is…until a couple of weeks ago when he arrived back from a guy’s trip with his father. You began to take note of the suspicious behavior he’s been having towards you lately. The way he’d hide his phone when he’s around you, how he’d avoid eye contact with you when you ask him about things, and how he’d leave every so often without telling you. It eventually got to the point where you needed to go and address it to him.
And that’s how you got here right now: sitting in your car in the driveway of his mom’s house on a gloomy Saturday night.
You muster up the courage to grab your bag and exit your car before locking it and walking the few steps over to the front door. After taking a deep breath, you step forward and knock on the door. Hoping it would be him answering the door, you’re quick to see Abby answer it instead. “Hey sweetheart,” she says to you. “What are you doing here so late?”
You look up to see Abby looking down at you with a soft smile. She was still in her scrubs with her white coat in her other hand, and with a bunch of little blonde flyaways sticking out of her hair. It looked like she had just gotten back from her shift at the hospital.
“Oh, Ms. Anderson…I was wondering if Andrew was here, by any chance? I need to talk to him about something.” you ask her, praying the answer would be what you’d expect it to be.
Abby let out a sigh and shook her head. “I’m afraid not, sweetheart…Owen dropped him off this morning and he left the house right before I was about to leave for work. I honestly thought he’d be spending the day with you today.”
Although Andrew was an adult now, he still managed to make visits between his mom and dad. Abby and Owen have been divorced for years now, but at the very beginning, they were once dating as high school sweethearts. It wasn’t until Abby had gotten pregnant from him during her senior year, and as a result, he’d figured the best and most traditional way was for them to get married after graduation.
Things were good for the couple so far…until one day, shortly after Andrew’s first birthday, Abby had gotten home early from school only to find her husband in bed with another woman, which instantly led to them getting divorced with joint custody of their son. She felt like she should’ve been hurt and heartbroken about that, but for some reason she just…didn’t. It was almost as if she was falling out of love with Owen anyway, and his cheating was just the sign for her to divorce him.
Even though Abby was the victim in that situation, she didn’t want to tell Andrew about it so as to not damage his relationship with his father. Instead, she made sure to raise him to be a loyal, trustworthy man, just so he wouldn’t end up turning out to be just like his father.
She raised him to make sure that he wouldn’t end up hurting you.
You let out a sigh, looking over at your car before back at her. “Alright, um, I’ll just head out, then…”
As you were about to leave, you felt Abby’s hand gently grab your shoulder, causing you to turn around. “Hold on, um…would you like to come inside? I can’t have you driving around in this awful weather, maybe you can just wait for him in the meantime, yeah?”
You hesitated for a moment, but to be fair, Abby did have a point. It’s been storming so much these days, and based on the few drops you felt land on your shoulder, it seemed like it was going to happen again tonight.
You give Abby a nod, accepting her offer. She steps over to the side, clearing the way for you to enter inside before closing the door behind you.
“Have a seat, sweetheart,” Abby offers, gesturing you towards her couch. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and order some takeout if you’d like? I uh, don’t plan on doing anything tonight…” she continues, stuffing her hands in her pockets.
You nod back at her and set your bag down on the couch before sitting yourself down. “That’s alright with me…Thanks again, Ms. Anderson.”
“Abby, sweetheart,” she replies, correcting you.
“Right, thank you, Abby.”
You watch as she turns around and heads upstairs to her room. Once the shower turns on, you can’t help but get a feeling of deja vu passing through you, remembering that certain day like it was yesterday.
Now, the thought of being with a woman never really crossed your mind, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but find Abby to be so…attractive. You assumed it was just a silly little crush and set it aside because there was no way that Abby would see you as anything more than her son’s girlfriend.
But it wasn’t until about a month ago, that you decided to spend the night at Andrew’s place. It was around 1 am, and you had left Andrew’s bedroom to use the bathroom. As you were just about to go in, you couldn’t help but peek into Abby’s room as you were passing by.
The door of her bathroom was creaked open, the shower was currently running, and while Abby was undressing herself from her scrubs, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes fixed on her figure. Her back, her arms, her hands…you were feeling so attracted to her, to where a wave of arousal was hitting you instantly. You were getting so turned on by her in the way that you should be feeling towards her son instead.
Your gaze kept lingering on her, but once you noticed her blue eyes locking with yours, you quickly rushed back to Andrew’s room. This led you to have to wake up your boyfriend just to have sex with him, all with the sinful thoughts of his mother on your mind.
And even though neither you nor Abby brought up that incident the next morning, she had a strong feeling that those sounds that you were making that night were meant for her.
The sound of thunder startles you. You look out the window to see that it has already begun pouring outside. You were definitely going to be here for a while now, but you didn’t mind it. Abby always provided good company to you anyway.
You watch as the rain keeps pattering down, hitting the glass of the window. Your hand feels the vibration of your phone followed by a chime, causing you to look down at your screen and check the notification you just received.
Abby shuts off the water in the shower once she’s finished, making sure to keep it quick so as to not leave you waiting for so long. She then quickly changed into a shirt and sweatpants before shutting off the lights and leaving her bedroom.
As Abby began to head downstairs, she could hear a faint sniffling sound coming from the living room. It sounded like you were crying. This led to her rushing even quicker now to the living room, walking in to see you quietly crying, your dimly lit phone in one hand while your face was buried in the other, collecting all of your tears.
Concerned, she slowly began to approach you. “Hey, hey sweetheart…what’s the matter?” she asks calmly, sitting down next to you on the couch and placing a hand on your shoulder.
All you could do was shake your head in response. You were so choked up on your tears that you couldn’t even speak. You felt Abby get closer to you, trying to take a look at what was on your phone. You quickly hid it away from her, but it was too late. She had already caught a glimpse of the familiar figure that was on the screen.
Her hand makes contact with yours, trying to get ahold of your phone. “Let me see,” she tells you in a commanding, yet gentle tone.
You couldn’t help but give in, slowly loosening your grip on your phone, now letting her have it in her possession. Once the phone was in her hands she took a closer look at the screen, eyes widening in shock and disbelief. She couldn't believe what was seeing right now.
It was a picture of Andrew, her son, out at a party, with his lips attached to another girl’s, that clearly wasn’t his girlfriend.
Abby was just as shocked as you were. But she wasn’t just shocked. She was enraged, enraged at the fact that her own son had gone behind your back and hurt you like this. You were the sweetest, kindest soul she’d ever met, how could he, or anyone manage to break your heart with no remorse whatsoever?
Along with that, Abby couldn’t help but feel disappointed either. She spent the past twenty years raising her son to not be a cheat like his father was. But at that moment, after seeing that photo and the state you are in right now, she felt like she failed as a mother.
At that moment, she wanted to make things right.
Not only that…she wanted to make you forget about her son and make up for how he treated you.
Abby sets your phone down and reaches for her own that was on the coffee table. You try to stop her from doing so, knowing that she is going to call her son right now. “I-I tried calling h-him,” you choked out, grabbing at her forearms. “H-He didn’t respond.”
Abby gently shakes your hands away from her arms and grabs her phone before quickly unlocking it. “He’ll respond to me, sweetheart, trust me,” she tells you sternly, getting up from the couch and making her way back upstairs to her room before closing the door.
She was definitely right about that. It didn’t take long for you to hear the muffled shouting coming out of Abby’s room. Even through the thick walls of her house, you could hear her clear as day:
“Andrew, what the hell were you thinking?! Your girlfriend is here in my house, worried sick about you and you’re at a fucking party cheating on her with another girl?! I didn’t raise you to be like this. If you wanna keep this act up, then go stay with your father, Andrew. I don’t want you coming back here until I say otherwise.”
Despite that Abby was in your defense about this, you couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmed. You honestly wished you hadn’t come here in the first place. Even though it was storming harshly outside, you felt like the best thing was to just go home. This was the last place you wanted to be at right now.
Once Abby had finished talking on the phone, she then went back downstairs to the living room, only to see you heading towards the front door to leave. She quickly stops you before your hand grabs the doorknob. “Hey, where are you going? I told you it’s too dangerous for you to drive out there right now.”
You ignore her and make the effort to push her away and get to the door, but her strong figure wouldn’t budge at all. “I-I need to go, Ms. Anderson, I can’t—“ Your words get cut off as Abby begins to wrap her arms around you, enclosing your surroundings into a hug.
You couldn’t help but give in to her embrace, burying your face into her chest and sobbing into it, instantly staining the soft cotton of her shirt with your tears. The way you were acting right now was hurting Abby inside. It hurt her to know that her son was the one that caused your heart to break into a million pieces, especially knowing how much you loved him. She was willing to do anything right now to take that pain away from you.
“Listen, sweetheart…” She says, slightly pulling away to get a look at you. “I told Andrew to stay at Owen’s in the meantime, okay? You don’t have to worry about him coming here.” she takes another deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t raise my son to be like this, sweetheart…I’m sorry.”
You look up at her and shake your head in response. “I-It’s okay, Ms. Anderson, it’s not your fault…”
The warmth from one of her hands reaches your face, wiping the tears off of your cheeks “I’d like you to stay here for a bit, okay? I don’t want you going out in that storm and getting hurt…I can’t afford to lose what my son couldn’t keep.”
It was clear that Abby didn’t mean for that last sentence to slip, and she didn’t notice that she was thinking out loud until she saw your eyes widen in shock. You couldn’t help but wonder if Abby was having those same feelings towards you as well…
Your gaze shifts away for a second, and you quickly wipe the rest of your tears before looking back up at her. “As much as I’d like to, Ms. Anderson…I really don’t want to be here right now…Everything here just reminds me of him…”
You notice Abby hesitate for a moment. “Do you, uh, want to go to my room instead? Will that help?” she says, practically trying not to sound desperate. She resisted the need to beg for it, but if that was convincing enough for you to stay with her, she would be on her knees in an instant.
“Yeah…That would be a lot better, actually…”
Abby’s arm moves down to the small of your back before keeping you close to her side as you follow her upstairs to her bedroom, which was at the end of the hall. Before you go in, you couldn’t help but turn your head at the room you had just passed—Andrew’s bedroom. You were already thinking about having to eventually go in there and take your things out of his room. The thought of it was already making you sick.
Abby places a hand on your shoulder, causing you to get slightly startled before looking up at her. “You know you don’t have to go in there yet, right?” she assures you, squeezing your shoulder. “I can even get your things out of his room if you need me to.”
You simply nod and smile back at her as a silent ‘thank you’ before turning the knob of her bedroom and letting yourself in.
Upon entering, you realize how much Abby’s room differs from her son’s. Her room was painted in a shade of light blue, her bed was neatly made just as she had it in the morning. On your left, there was her dresser followed by some weights next to it, and on your right was the entrance to her bathroom. That same bathroom you had peeked into not that long ago.
“Your room is nice,” you tell her, your eyes still fixed on your surroundings. “Definitely a lot nicer than Andrew’s.”
Abby lets out a chuckle from behind. “Yeah, I know, he’s always been so unorganized.” she then hesitates for a moment before continuing. “However, there’s always been something in his room that mine doesn’t have…”
You slowly turn around to face her, noticing her starting to approach you. “What’s that?”
She stops in her tracks once she’s in front of you, gently placing her hand on your chin and lifting it up so you can see her.
“…you.”
A smile crept up on your face in reaction to her words. “Is that so? Well…”
You pause for a moment, looking at your surroundings before looking back up at her and leaning in, just close enough to where your lips were just inches away from hers.
“I like it better here anyway,” you whisper back to her.
And with that, Abby gives in and seals your words with a kiss, and you just can’t help but kiss her back. The both of you knew that this was wrong, Abby was your boyfriend’s mother for Christ’s sake.
But if it’s such a bad thing, why did it feel so good for the two of you?
You feel Abby’s hand in front of you, slightly pushing you back so you can sit down on her bed. Once you land on her bed, she drops down to her knees to your height, still maintaining her lips with yours before pulling them away momentarily to strip you down.
Her hands first meet with the hem of your shirt, gently tugging it upwards to get it off. You bring your hands up as she fully discards you from your shirt and toss it to the ground. As she now works on getting your jeans off, you unhook your bra and slowly remove it before tossing it next to your shirt.
Abby looks up for a moment, only for her gaze to linger at the mere sight of your topless self. “My god…” she says in awe, moving both of her hands to your tits. “You look so beautiful…I can’t believe he gets to see this…gets to touch this…”
With her hands still cupping your tits, she leans in to kiss one of them, causing a moan to escape from your mouth. One of her hands moves back to the button of your jeans, and she instantly gets them undone with just a single hand. Her mouth is soon off of your nipple followed by her other hand, now hardened just from the contact of her lips and fingers. You were easily getting so turned on by her, and she knew it.
However, now that your jeans were gone and your underwear was shifted to the side, you couldn’t help but stop her once she was about to dive in between your legs. “W-Wait…” you said, gently pushing her head away from your soaked cunt.
Abby paused her movements immediately, pulling her head away and looking up at you. “What? What is it?” she asks with some slight concern in her voice.
You hesitate for a moment. You genuinely don’t know how you’re going to be able to confess this to her.
“You, um…you don’t have to do it, i-if you don’t want to—“
“But I want to,” she replied firmly, instantly cutting off the rest of your words. “Do you not want me to?”
You shake your head quickly in response. “N-No, I do, I really do, I just thought—“
“Thought what? What did you think?” she asks you, raising an eyebrow in confusion.
It didn’t take long for Abby to get the message. She knew why you were being so hesitant about this. To her, it felt like she was one step away from finally being able to not only taste you but to give you the pleasure that you deserved. But to you, you couldn’t help but simply feel like a burden to her, just like how it was with her son.
“Wait a minute…Has Andrew not been doing this to you?”
Your gaze drifts off to the side, and she takes your lack of eye contact as a yes to her question.
Each of her hands was on your knees, and you could feel her tighten her grip on them a bit, but not to the point where it would hurt you. And even though you were looking away from her, you could see her shake her head in disbelief from the corner of your eye.
“I can’t believe him…” she mutters to herself with a sigh. “He really is just like his father.”
The warmth of her hand makes contact with the side of your face, tilting it back forward to face her. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart…please let me make up for my son’s actions…let me give you the pleasure that you deserve. Will you let me do that? Please?”
You hesitate once again. The thought of having Abby give you even the slightest bit of pleasure felt overwhelming to you, but the fact that she was quite literally on her knees begging to do it to you turned you on even more. If anything, Abby was being more desperate than you were right now.
So you give in this time.
“Y-yes…” you whisper out quietly to her. “Go ahead…”
And with that, Abby’s hands meet together at the waistband of your underwear, fully pulling them down and off of your legs before spreading them even farther than before.
Her lips gently brush over your sensitive clit to kiss it, and the sudden contact causes you to involuntarily jerk back. You didn’t mean to do it, but it’s been so long since you’ve been touched before, that even the slightest touch on your pussy already makes you feel overstimulated.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Abby coos, gently squeezing your hips and bringing you closer to her face. “I’ve got you, just lie back and relax for me, sweetheart, okay? Nice and slow…”
You try your best to keep your cool right now, and even Abby tries to as well. It’s clearly taking everything in her to not just quickly dive into your pussy and devour you alive. But she knows how long it’s been for you. She knows that your body hasn’t been worshipped the way that it should be.
“God….you taste so good…sweetest little thing I’ve ever had…” she murmurs into your pussy, slowly increasing the speed of her fingers.
You couldn’t help but watch in awe at the sight of Abby right now. Andrew was never willing to even put his mouth near your pussy, while his mother here was on her knees eating you like a woman starved.
“Mmmh, g-go faster, please…” you quietly whine out to her, grinding your hips against both of her thick fingers that were inside you.
You didn’t need to say anything else for Abby to instantly obey your command. Her fingers began to pump in and out of your pussy even faster than before. They were going in so deep to the point where the tip of her middle finger easily tapped into your g spot, and you absolutely loved it.
Before you knew it, Abby’s fingers and mouth were going at an extremely rapid pace inside you, so fast to the point where you were gripping onto the edge of the bed to hold yourself down.
That feeling was quickly building up inside you now, you were going to cum at any moment. However, something about that feeling felt unusual to you. It was almost as if you needed to stop what she was doing to you.
So you do. You try to warn her, even grab at her wrist to slow down.
“A-Abby, wait—oh God—fuck!”
As much as you tried, you couldn’t warn her in time. Your body had already done its deed, your pussy uncontrollably squirting into her mouth and on her fingers as you reached your peak. The rest of your body felt limp, and your brain was feeling slightly fuzzy from your orgasm.
You felt Abby shift around in between your legs to stand back up, which led you to muster up the energy to sit up on the bed. Your eyes widen at the mess you’ve just created. Everything—Abby’s face, her clothes, her sheets, your legs—was all soaked with your release.
You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by it, quickly closing up your legs and bringing your knees to your face. “A-Abby, I’m so sorry I—I didn’t mean to do that…I tried to—“
“Hey hey, it’s okay sweetheart…Don’t feel bad…” she murmurs out to you, gently caressing your face with one hand while bringing both of your knees back down with the other. “Did it feel good?”
You nod slowly as she looks back down at you. “Yes, it did…Better than—”
“Better than him, right?”
“Yeah. Better than him.”
A smile flashes on Abby’s face as she leans in to kiss your lips, letting you taste a bit of yourself in the process. “Then you shouldn’t be sorry, sweetheart,” she tells you as she pulls away. “Lie down on the back of the bed, princess. I'm not done with you just yet.”
You simply oblige, sitting yourself up and scooting to the back of her bed, lying your head down on top of her pillows that were stacked in front of the headboard. You watch as Abby wipes her face and licks her fingers clean before stripping herself out of her clothes. Just like last time, you couldn’t help but admire her broad, muscular figure. And it wasn't just her figure, it was just everything about her. Her bright blue eyes, her freckled skin, her luscious blond hair…You just felt so mesmerized by her. You felt an attraction to her that just couldn’t compete with Andrew at all.
Your eyes follow her movements as she leans down over her bottom bedside drawer and opens it for a moment before shaking her head and closing it. It didn’t take much for you to be able to see the strap she owned, alongside the few other toys she had in there.
The weight of the bed soon shifts down as she hovers herself over you. “Are you…are you not gonna fuck me?” you ask her quietly.
Abby nods her head as she adjusts the pillows on the back of your head to make you feel more comfortable. “I’m gonna fuck you, sweetheart, just not with those,” she says as she shifts back and begins to position herself in between your legs. “I'm gonna fuck you in a way that no man, not even my own son, could ever do with you. Would you like that, sweetheart?”
You nod quickly, eager to find out how she’s going to do this. However, you didn’t know what to do about it either. “Wait, but how do I—”
“You don’t have to do anything, okay princess? All you have to do is just look pretty for me while I do the work. Lie back and relax for me, just like before, yeah?”
You nod again, resting your upper body back on the bed as Abby continues to maneuver herself over you. She lifts up one of your legs and places it over her shoulder, and then brings her free hand down to her pussy and spreads her lips open with two of her fingers. You could easily see that she was just as wet as you were right now.
She then places her wet pussy on top of yours and you easily gasp at the newfound feeling of it. The way her lips molded perfectly against yours, along with how her arousal was practically dripping on top of your tight hole had you reeling.
“Oh fuck,” Abby mutters out, further pressing herself down on top of you. “Your pussy feels even better against me like this.”
Abby begins to grind her pussy against yours, causing you to moan over the friction. You understand that Abby wants to take her time with you right now, but God was she being so painfully slow with this. You were desperately craving for some more friction already, but you felt too shy to tell her. So you end up weakly grinding your hips instead.
“Whoa there,” Abby says, placing a hand on your hip to keep you steady. “Looks like someone’s eager for more…You want me to go faster, princess? Is that what you want?”
“Y-Yes, p-please Abby…g-go faster…” you whine out to her, continuing to grind against her pussy.
“Needy girl…” she mutters as she increases her pace. “Not even a minute with my pussy and she already wants more…I bet it feels better than any cock you’ve ever had, hm?”
All you could do at this point was babble and whine in response. The feeling of Abby’s wet cunt against yours was getting you easily drunk. You look down and watch Abby place a thumb on your hood, lifting it to expose your throbbing clit to her. She then placed her clit right on top of yours before grinding even faster than before.
The sudden overstimulation caused your eyes to flutter themselves shut and your head to tilt back in pleasure against the stack of pillows behind you. Your body soon starts to feel limp again and the familiar fuzziness in your brain soon returns again. At this point, Abby was practically using your pussy to get herself off. But as long as you kept feeling the delicious friction of her clit rubbing against yours, you didn’t mind at all.
Abby suddenly tightens her grip on your leg, leading you to open your eyes and look back at her. Her brows were furrowed in concentration with her gaze fixed on both pussies. You could hear her quietly whimpering to herself while the muscles in her abdomen were contracting and tensing up as she kept quickly grinding herself against your pussy.
At first, you couldn’t tell what she was trying to do with herself. But it didn’t take you too long to realize why her body was doing these things.
Abby was waiting for you to cum first.
You were at a loss for words at the moment. Andrew never cared about that. He would always be done the second he’d finish, meanwhile, Abby was sacrificing her own pleasure just to make you cum a second time.
“A-Are you close, sweetheart?” Abby moans out to you, keeping her hands firm against you as she continues to rub her pussy onto yours.
“Y-Yes, fuck—” you whimper back as you begin to quickly grind your hips against hers. “D-don't stop, Abby…m’so close…”
At this point, the noises that the two of you were making right now were borderline pornographic. Between your moans and whines with Abby’s grunts, along with the wet squelching sound of both of your pussies rubbing against one another, it's honestly surprising how you haven’t woken up the neighbors by now.
“Fuck, Abby—'m gonna cum, fuck!” you tell her as you grip the bedsheets while continuing to rub your clit with hers.
Within seconds, your pussy began to quickly clench around Abby’s while instantly cumming right on top of it. Once Abby felt that you were emptied out, she soon let her body relax before cumming onto your pussy as well with a broken moan.
Once the both of you have recovered from each other's climaxes, Abby presses a soft kiss to your ankle before gently getting your leg off of her shoulder and setting it back down.
Feeling drunk from your orgasm, you let your eyes flutter shut for a moment, hardly feeling the movements of Abby cleaning you up and tucking you into a fresh set of sheets. Your eyes open back up again once Abby has her arm wrapped around you from behind. “Abby, that was…that felt amazing..” you whisper out to her.
Abby lets out a chuckle before gently kissing the back of your shoulder. “I’m glad I could make up for it, sweetheart,” she whispers back to you.
You turn your head around for a moment to face her. “Are you sure I can spend the night here with you?” you ask her shyly.
Abby smiles at you, giving you a quick kiss on your lips before responding. “Of course you can, sweetheart…you know I told him not to come back,” she reassures you, gently caressing the side of your face with her hand. “You’re in good hands with me, I promise.”
You smile at her before turning back around and pressing yourself closer to her as she keeps you tightly wrapped in her embrace. The security that Abby was giving you right now was more than enough to make you instantly drift off to sleep, secretly wishing that the night that you’d spent with your boyfriend’s mother could now last a lifetime.
And little did you know, Abby was also wishing the same thing too.
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alessiasfreckles · 13 days
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read my lips (mapí léon x ingrid engen x deaf!reader)
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You've had a long day, and the last thing you want to do is meet your friend at a busy café after work - until two women show up and ask if they can sit at your table.
a/n: based on this request, i hope you like it! i'm sorry it's not super long but i might do a part 2 x (also i have the same shirt as the one mapi is wearing in those pics so i had to use them)
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The day started out like any other. You got up, showered, got dressed, had a quick breakfast and headed off to work. That’s when things started to go downhill. Somehow half of your files were missing, so you had to spend hours trying to recover them, and when that didn’t work you had to contact the IT guy, who didn’t seem to understand that exaggerating all of his words and shouting made it harder to understand him than if he just spoke normally. Then you realised you’d forgotten your lunch at home, so you had to spend half of your lunch break going to the shop down the road - and they didn’t have the sandwich you wanted. 
By the time you’d finished work, you wanted nothing more than to go home and curl up in bed. Unfortunately, you’d planned on meeting a friend at a nearby café, and you hadn’t seen each other in months, so you really didn’t want to cancel. With a sigh, you packed your things and headed to the café.
It was busy, and the noise was draining - the clanking of cups, the hiss of the coffee machine, the sound of cutlery scraping against plates. Your friend wasn’t there yet, so you ordered a drink and found an empty table tucked away in a corner. You sent her a quick message, telling her where you were sat, and turned off your implants with a breath of relief. You were looking forward to seeing her. She was Deaf as well, and it got tiring talking to people all day. It would be nice to just be able to sign away to someone, someone who spoke the same way you did. 
As you waited, you scrolled through your phone. You could make out muffled sounds behind you, but ignored them, knowing that when your friend arrived she would just sit down, rather than trying to get your attention. 
The sounds quieted down, but then came back after a minute. You kept scrolling through your phone until someone stepped into your line of sight. Looking up, you saw two young women. One had dark brown hair and piercing blue-green eyes, and the other had lighter brown hair with blonde tips, and a tattoo across her neck. They were both stunning, and it took a moment for you to register that they were trying to talk to you. You quickly focused your attention on the dark-haired girl’s lips, watching her mouth move.
“Hey, would we be able to sit here? All of the other tables…” her mouth kept moving, but she turned her head, gesturing to the rest of the café, which was packed. You frowned as you tried to read her lips, but it was hard when she wasn’t facing you directly. Guessing that she was saying something about nowhere else being free, you nodded. It was a table of four after all, and it wasn’t like you had to worry about them listening in to your conversation.
“Yeah, sure. My friend should be here soon but there’s still space,” you said, trying not to get distracted again by how gorgeous the women were. They smiled gratefully and sat down. You went back to scrolling on your phone as you waited, wondering where your friend was. 
“Are you from around here?” the woman with the tattoo asked, sitting down next to you. You didn’t see though, and hadn’t even realised she was talking to you. She waited a minute for a response, and when nothing came she raised an eyebrow at the other woman, who just shrugged. 
Your friend arrived a few minutes later, rushing over to your table then stopping when she saw the two women. She waved at you, then glanced over at the women.
“Who are they?” she signed, and you shrugged.
“I don’t know, they just wanted somewhere to sit and this was the only place left.” you signed back quickly.
Your signing caught the eyes of the two women, who watched in surprise. As your friend sat down, the dark-haired woman moved over a little, making more space. 
“Sorry, do you want us to move?” she asked, then cringed as she realised she’d just spoken to you, when the two of you were clearly using sign language. Still, you’d spoken to her earlier, so you must understand some spoken words.
“No, it’s okay,” your friend said with a smile, and the woman looked relieved.
The woman next to you tapped you on the shoulder, and you sighed inwardly, but turned to face her. All you really wanted to do was chat to your friend, not answer some stranger’s questions about being Deaf - which happened more often than you would think.
“Hi! My name is M-A-R-I-A,” she signed. The signs looked different to the ones you knew, and you guessed that it wasn’t British Sign Language.
“Where are you from?” you asked, and she looked disappointed that her signing hadn’t been received well. “Your signing looked good, I just don’t recognise it. Are you from a different country?”
“Ah, yes, I’m from Spain,” she explained, smiling apologetically.
“That explains it. There are different sign languages in every country. That must be Spanish sign language.”
“Can you hear?” she frowned, tapping her ear.
You could see the dark-haired woman frown and hiss something at the woman sat next to you, but didn’t see what it was. 
“No, but I can lip-read,” you told her, tapping your lips. “What were you signing?”
“That’s so cool!” she exclaimed with a wide grin. “I was signing ‘Hi, my name is Maria’. Actually, everyone calls me Mapi, but I only know how to sign Maria.”
“Ma-pi?” you asked, watching her mouth closely. 
“Si- uh, I mean, yes!” she nodded, smiling, and grabbed a pen from her pocket and wrote it on a napkin. Mapi.
The other woman chuckled and shook her head fondly, catching your attention.
“I’m sorry about her. She likes meeting new people,” she said, looking at Mapi with a warm look. “I’m Ingrid. I’m sorry, we’ll let you get back to your friend now.”
Mapi nodded, looking slightly bashful, and you tried to ignore the disappointment you were feeling.
“How do you end up sat with two of the most attractive people I’ve ever seen?” your friend signed to you, eyes wide.
“Luck, I guess?” you signed back with a shrug. “They really are ridiculously hot, though, right?”
She nodded, stifling a laugh. The two of you chatted for a while, catching up on each other’s lives, when her phone vibrated on the table between you. Her eyes flew to her phone and she grimaced apologetically. 
“I’m sorry, I have to go, I forgot that I-”
“It’s fine, it’s fine, you can go,” you signed, rolling your eyes teasingly. She was notoriously forgetful, and if anything you were surprised that she’d even made it to your meeting. She apologised again and was out of the café within minutes, leaving you alone with Mapi and Ingrid once again.
You sat for a moment, contemplating whether to stay a while longer and read or whether to just leave. Deciding that, really, all you still wanted to do was get into bed, you packed up your things and left, waving goodbye to the two women. 
Except, when you got outside, you realised it was raining. Not just raining, but absolutely chucking it down. Rummaging through your bag, you had a sinking feeling that only got worse as you searched, realising that you had, in fact, forgotten your umbrella at home.
Fuck, you thought to yourself, wondering what to do. Normally you’d just walk, but in this weather and without an umbrella you definitely didn’t want to. There was a bus stop not too far, you supposed, but you weren’t sure what time the next bus was.
With a sigh, you turned your implants back on, bracing yourself for the sudden noise and winced at the sounds. As you started to pull out your phone to check the bus timetable, the door to the café swung open behind you, loud chatter and the clanking of plates catching your attention. You looked up to see Mapi and Ingrid, who were frowning at the sky.
“The weather here is so bad,” Mapi grumbled, but there was a smile in her eyes.
You nodded with a chuckle, and opened your mouth to reply when a car sped past, honking its horn, making you jump.
“Fuck, that was loud!” you exclaimed, clapping your hands over your ears. Mapi looked at you in surprise.
“I thought you couldn’t hear?”
“I can’t, but I have implants,” you explained, lifting your hair to show her the device. “I don’t really like using them though, the noise can be so overwhelming. I had them off in the café, but it’s safer to have them on outside.”
“Oh, that’s so cool!” Mapi grinned. “I wish I could turn my hearing off sometimes.”
“Maria,” Ingrid admonished her, looking slightly embarrassed. “You can’t say things like that.”
“Why not?” she asked, turning to face the Norwegian. You tuned them out as you looked at your phone, remembering that you’d wanted to check the buses. Okay, there was one in 20 minutes, that wasn’t too bad, you supposed. 
Or… you could wait, and see what Mapi and Ingrid were doing. Yeah, you wanted to go home, but it also wasn’t every day that two women this interesting just fell into your lap like this. 
“Hey, you said you’re from around here, right?” Mapi asked, tapping you on the shoulder to get your attention again.
“Yep,” you nodded. “Born and raised here.”
“Great! If you’re not busy, do you want to show us around a little?” 
“Oh!” you said, surprised. 
“If you’re busy, that’s okay,” Ingrid quickly interjected, mistaking your surprise for hesitation.
“No, no, I’m not busy,” you smiled. Fuck it. “I can show you around. Maybe we should go somewhere dry, first?”
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bonny-kookoo · 2 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | In Motion
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Moving on is scary. Moving back won't bring you forwards. But moving with someone at your side can be exciting.
Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, MCs Ex, police, Jungkook being the victim of bullying (dw), fluff?, nsfw but it's very light (sorry)
Length: 6k words
-> Masterlist
There is no taglist for this fic.
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“Its funny how a woman can change a man.” Yoongi mentions, sitting at the big company dinner next to Jungkook, who's both visibly distracted and upset to be present, phone being checked every few minutes or so- and Yoongi knows who he might be texting with. “why didn’t you bring her along?” He wonders, while Jungkook sighs.  
“I’m actually not sure.” He admits. “I’ve been given a plus-one like always, and I planned on inviting her- but then I.. chickened out.” He shakes his head. “these events are boring as hell.” He says, eating his food with not much interest.  
“What is she doing at home instead?” Yoongi asks, setting his own cutlery aside as he’s finished his plate.  
“Cooking. She sent me a picture of some.. macaroni and cheese she made from scratch.” Jungkook smiles to himself as he thinks to the image you’ve sent him with multiple excited emojis to convey your happiness over it- having tried to wing it for the first time. “now she’s most likely watching her favorite show since it’s Tuesday.” He shrugs.  
“Wow.” Yoongi jokes. “That’s so much more exciting, damn.” He flatly tells his friend, who rolls his eyes. “Jungkook, have you actually asked her if she’d ever want to tag along?”  
“…Yes.. and she said she wouldn’t mind..” He admits shamefully so.  
“Then bring her next time. You act as if you and her are George and Maria over there. You’re not sixty for God’s sake, and she didn’t turn legal yesterday either.” Yoongi shakes his head with laughter, amused by his best friend. He’s noticed the change in him pretty much immediately after the younger guy had returned from his vacation and days taken off- looking almost ten years younger, happy and most of all carefree. There was no worry on his face, no thoughts wrinkling his brows, no annoyance and clear signs of boiling burnout left.  
“I.. want to ask her to move in with me.” Jungkook admits suddenly, staring at his food. “I know it’s a bit fast but.. I feel like this time, she really is the one for me.” He tells his friend, who shrugs.  
“Its your decision. I’m happy you found someone good.” He simply answers him, refusing to really help in that regard. Jungkook can make this decision all by himself, after all. 
And he should. 
Back at his place, where he puts the car keys on the kitchen counter before he unbuttons his shirt to get ready to shower, he takes a small look around. The cooking utensils he bought just for you are still here, and so is your favorite blanket. The pillows he got are littering the couch, and yet, only you are missing.  
You’re missing.  
Even though you’re technically not even meant to be here all the time yet.  
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Jungkook has become.. suspicious, to say the least.  
You’ve been together for a few months now after all, and ever single one of them, for the same week or so, you vanish out of sight. And he’s not stupid. 
He knows you don’t have an affair with someone else, or your work simply always calls you in during that time, because he knows you escape his sight even when you have days off. No, he knows exactly what it is, and he honestly doesn’t really know why you do it.  
Do you think it grosses him out? Or that he doesn’t know how to deal with it? Knowing you at this point, he might just be right.  
But he also can’t force you to come out and be with him during that time of the month if you don’t want to. You have to want this all by yourself, because otherwise, how can you both build a relationship that’s not the same as your past? He’s not that much better from your past boyfriend if he was to just overstep a boundary you clearly still have.  
Back at work in his private office, he contemplates on messaging you. That could help, right? He types out a simple message, letting you know that if it really is what he thinks happens every month, then you don’t have to be worried at all.
He doesn’t mind. At all.  
So he just texts you- tells you that if you ‘need anything at all’, he’d just bring it over and leave you be if that’s what you’re most comfortable with. However, instead of just texting back, you call him- making him wave towards his secretary in a manner that shows her he is for now unavailable unless urgent. “Well hello, darling.” He chuckles when he picks up the call, unaware that on the other end, his words still make you horribly shy.  
“Sorry for not.. Uhm.. You know, calling you or anything.” You say, but Jungkook doesn’t mind.  
“It’s no bother. We’re both still getting used to things, after all.” He reminds you. “Though I’d love some sign of life every now and then in the future. Just a quick ‘hey, I’m doing ok’ is really enough for me.” He offers.  
“Sorry. I’ll think about it from now on.” You say, though Jungkook is pleased to hear that you don’t just do it out of submission- but that it sounds a lot more like relief, almost. As if you’ve waited for him to say this. “But uhm.. What do you mean by, ‘if I need anything’?” You wonder.  
“I’m assuming you avoid me every month due to your period.” He says, and you just meekly answer with a sigh, and a ‘yeah’. “It’s no bother to me, really. It’s not gross or whatever you might think.” 
“I’m just.. Moody and stuff. I’m worried I might.. I don’t know, be mean to you on accident.” You warn him, and he just laughs it off.  
“I’m not that fragile, love.” He jokes. “And I doubt that you’ll end up calling me an asshole every second of the day if we spend time together.”  
“No, I’d never!” you defend yourself, making him chuckle. “I just get cranky, and I don’t know.. I might just get onto your nerves.” You warn him. 
“You could turn full on toddler on me, and I’d still take care of you.” He jokes. “I really don’t mind. How about we meet up later, and I’ll cook us something at your place? I have the weekend off, we could spend it together.” He offers, clicking a little through the rest of the E-Mails he has for today. “Or you could always.. Stay over at my place as well. You know I love it when you’re there with me.” He says. 
You really like his place. To the point, where you actually begin to miss being there, despite having loved your little apartment for so long until now. It’s odd how his house has become somewhat of a safe-space, even thinking about it makes you feel good. And hearing that he personally enjoys having you over as well offers you some sort of hope that maybe one day, he might even want you there permanently.  
What could living with him look like? 
How long until he gets annoyed with you? 
“I really like your home.” You confess quietly, and he waves off his secretary that’s about to knock- because he can feel he’s potentially at the very cusp of something. “Do you.. I mean..” You mumble, before you sigh. “Yeah sure, let’s uhm.. Spend the weekend together.” You tell him, and he realizes quickly that your tone is not very confident at all, despite the fact that you’re trying to make it seem like it is.  
“It could be your home too, you know?” 
He waits for you to answer, and he knows this needs some time to be thought through, but he truly believes that you’re the one for him. It doesn’t have to happen right away either- but he wants you to know that the option is there, if you’d like to take it someday.  
“I-“ you start, when he can hear your doorbell ring in the background. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.” You tell him, leaving the phone for a little bit, silence the only thing that Jungkook gets to hear. Your phone probably cancels out whatever quiet noise might be there, so he’s unsure what’s going on, until you return to the phone again. “Can I call you back later?” You say after a moment, voice almost whispering.  
“What’s wrong?” He asks, immediately alarmed by your behavior. He presses for an answer by saying your name- but still, you don’t answer. Until you finally do.  
“He’s here.” You say, 
And Jungkook immediately grabs the keys to his car, rushing out as fast as he can.  
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Jungkook isn’t sure what he expected your ex to look like. But seeing him now, in front of your door as Jungkook walks closer, he feels his blood boil. 
The man is not quite as tall as he is just like you mentioned a few months back, but he’s clearly training for muscle. A very intimidating body, and the second the man turns towards him, he spots the things you’ve told him before as well. His facial features are a lot sharper than Jungkook’s, eyes dark as they muster him up and down, frown on his face. “What do you want?” He asks, voice deep, raspy. Most likely from smoking- cigarette smell still clinging to the man in front of him. 
“I’d like to visit my girlfriend, if you’d be so polite to make space for me to enter the door, please.” Jungkook speaks, tone held at a very specific tone as to not give away any emotions for his opponent to pick up on. 
“Oh, so she got a rich guy now.” Your ex says, leaning back, arms crossed- most likely to present his muscles, something that Jungkook thinks looks simply childish. “Tell her she owes me money. I need it asap, and she keeps avoiding me.” He explains, and Jungkook nods.  
“I’d love to tell her that.” He says. “But you’re still blocking the door.” he says, noticing both the very clear and sharp smell of alcohol, and the way he slightly sways a bit. 
It’s quiet for a good moment, both men staring each other down, before your ex moves to the side, though it’s clear that he doesn’t do it as to admit defeat. Jungkook takes the chance and knocks at your door now, prepared that your ex might try and slip inside the second you open it. “Hey- it’s me.” Jungkook tells you through the door, and at that, you open it just a little bit, like you’re trying to check if he’s actually there or not.  
Once you look at him, his entire face softens. 
You look like a panicked animal that just escaped a shot to the head, eyes wide, staring up at him. At the sight of Jungkook you instantly open the door wider to welcome him inside, and he himself is quick to shut the door right behind him, a hand having tried to keep it open last second. 
“I’m here now.” Jungkook reassures you while you cling to him, your ex having moved to knock and ring the doorbell constantly, angry about Jungkook’s antics. “Don’t worry. Let’s call someone to deal with him, and then we’ll go from there, alright?” He explains to you, as you detach yourself a bit, taking a few deep breaths at the instruction of Jungkook who’s still holding your arms as if to steady you. “Go sit down, I’ll make the call. Did he hurt you at all?” He worries, but you shake your head. 
“I didn’t let him in.” You answer quietly, and Jungkook nods. 
“Which is the best thing you could’ve done. Good job.” He praises, helping you sit down in your bedroom, as far away from the front door, which is still being tortured, as possible, before he walks back out into your kitchen, phone on his ear to call the police. 
It all happens a lot quicker than he would’ve thought- your ex having apparently had gone against some very important guidelines he’s been given after a more recent violent crime he’s committed. “You can file in for a restraining order.” The officer tells Jungkook who nods. “Judging by the fact that he’s known already, that might be for the best. Those people are too unhinged to really be trusted.” 
“Yeah, seeing him in person today has definitely made up my mind about some legal restrictions placed onto him.” Jungkook agrees. “Thank you for dealing with him so quickly.”  
“No problem. You two have a calm rest of your day.” The officer says, before they drive off, your ex in the back of the police car. 
The second he’s back in your home, having realized he actually knows the pin-code to your door, he carefully opens the bedroom door where you’re still hiding on your bed- and the second he nods, you get the message letting go of a deep breath, leaning against him the second he sits down on your bed. “The officer said we should probably file a restraining order towards him.” Jungkook tells you. “I think that’s a good idea as well. It would.. Definitely help me, knowing that he can’t get close to you.” 
“...wait- it’s Tuesday, you were at work-!” You suddenly say, realizing that he probably left work early just to be here now. “You can go back now, I swear I’m fine-” 
“The office won’t burn down just because I’m not there darling, relax.” He laughs, running a hand up and down your arm. “I’ve got the day off tomorrow anyways, and after that I’ll work from home for a while. So it’s not that bad, I promise.” He explains to you, who slowly nods. “And it was a family-emergency after all. They all surely understand that I suddenly ran off.” He jokes- 
Though you feel oddly emotional at the mention of that phrase. 
“Family emergency?” You ask quietly, and he nods, easily, as if it’s no big deal.  
“My girlfriend was in trouble. I’d count that as a family emergency.” He shrugs, and you look at your knees, unsure about what to think. “Which, by the way.. And you can totally say no, it would be completely fine-” He starts, before he continues his sentence once you look at him. “-but.. My parents might want to meet you.” He reveals, strangely... shy almost. 
“Might?” You wonder, and he nods, before sighing. 
“I might’ve let it slip that we’re.. Well, a couple.” He admits. “And I can’t help it, really.” 
“Can’t help what?” You wonder, making him play with the silver rings on his bottom lip. 
“I tend to.. Ramble on and on when it comes to you. So when they asked about you, I just.. I couldn’t help it. And now my family is very much curious to meet you.” He explains, and you smile to yourself. 
“Well.. I mean, I don’t mind?” You say. “What’s the worst that can happen, am I right?”  
“Oh god you don’t know my family.” He dramatizes playfully. “My mother can be a handful, and my brother will most likely just go on and on about some embarrassing stuff that happened when we were kids.” he groans, and you can’t help but grin. 
“Are you scared I might end up hearing something you’d otherwise keep from me?” You wonder, and he glares at you, before he suddenly smiles. “But really. I don’t mind meeting them, if you’re okay with that.” You say. 
And Jungkook can’t help but lean over at that to kiss your lips, realizing just how serious you’re both getting. 
“You’re the only one I’d ever want them to meet.” 
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Jungkook’s parents have never liked his ex wife. 
That’s information you’ve been told later that night before Jungkook had left to go home- and you’re unsure how to think about that. You feel like there’s now a standard you have to reach, and you’re not sure if you can. If you meet them, and it doesn’t work out, what will they think of you?
Your ex has never really let you meet his parents much- only fleetingly, when you met them by chance at the local grocery store or in similar situations. You know that Jungkook has a brother who’s been married for much longer than Jungkook has been- will he judge you for being so much younger than Jungkook himself? 
Will his parents think you’re not a good fit for him because you’re too young? Or do they know already? 
You’re currently washing dishes from the breakfast Jungkook and you had at his place today, when the doorbell rings. You’ve spent the night after admitting that you weren’t feeling good about sleeping at your own place after what happened, and he understood- happily telling you that you can always stay at his house for as long as you’d like. You wonder if he meant permanently.   
He’s been hinting at it for quite a bit now.  
A dog almost jumps up on you, another one following- two tiny whippets excitedly yapping at you, before a young man calls them towards him. Only now do you see three people entering the house through the front door- an older couple, and the young man who you assume owns the dogs, Jungkook standing on the sidelines, hiding his face in his hand.  
“Oh, you must be her!” The woman says, and you instantly know that she must be his mother. He inherited quite a bit of her facial features, though you can also see his father in him as well, the man a lot quieter than her, simply hanging up her coat before greeting his son properly. “Oh you do look young! But very pretty.” She tells you, before she tells you her name.  “When did you change the furniture? It looks so much brighter in here without that weird sofa in the living room.” His mother exclaims, as Jungkook enters the open kitchen.  
“I- mom, when I said you could visit I didn’t mean today.!” Jungkook almost whines, before he throws you an apologetic look. “And also, what are you even doing here?” He asks the young man who very clearly has to be his brother from visual appearance alone.  
“Hey, I gotta know who the pretty girl is who caught my baby brother’s attention!” He teases, smacking Jungkook’s back. “You’ve been going on and on about her, you can’t blame me for being curious.” He explains himself, before he reaches out to you. “Junghyun. Nice to meet you.” He greets you, before he boldly moves to take a look inside the fridge.  
It's odd how you just instantly know the dynamic of his family from this small interaction alone.
Jungkook quickly somehow gets his family to sit in the living room while telling them that he’ll make them something to drink, before he joins you in the kitchen again. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know when J talked to them yesterday that they would show up literally 24 hours later-“ he apologizes, but you wave him off.  
“Its.. not that big of a deal. They seem nice- and it would’ve had to happen at some point, right?” You wonder, and he nods.  
“Still, it must be at least somewhat uncomfortable. I know I’d like to be prepared to meet your parents.” He sighs, moving to make some coffee for his parents after pecking your lips once.  
“…would you?” You ask, and he turns around after clicking the right buttons on the coffee machine in front of him. “meet my parents, I mean.” You ask, unsure.  
“I.. yeah?” He rubs the back of his neck a little. “I’m.. I mean, I don’t know if they’re even aware that you’re seeing someone-“ 
“They are.” You admit. “they.. I told my mom. After we.. after Christmas.” You explain, and he listens with interest, letting you go at your own pace however. “She’s.. they both know you’re older, and my dad is not very happy about that. But my mom seemed welcoming of the idea.” You tell him honestly, and he nods. “they’re scared too, you know? After all that happened.”  
Jungkook nods. “I completely understand. And even without that-“ he shrugs. “-I guess any parents would be suspicious of a relationship like ours.” Be admits and you nod as well, well aware that your parents might not be as easy going as his are. “but well make it work. Right?” be asks, and you know what he’s asking.  
Not if you’re gonna make it work- but if your parent’s possibly being against your relationship could be a deal breaker for you.  
“Yeah.” You say, because you’re not going to let this be taken away from you, by anyone. You’ve had a taste of what your life could be like if you were to just let it happen- and you don’t want to hide away and be trampled over anymore. You want him, you want this life and this future you might have together- no matter what.  
And Jungkook can’t help but walk closer to you, kissing your lips while he tenderly holds your cheeks.  
“Mom, Jungkook is making out with his girlfriend instead of making Coffee!” his brother yells, and Jungkook leans back at that, jaw clenched and tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek while he’s got his eyes closed, having to restrain himself you imagine. But you can’t help and giggle at the situation- visions of what those two brothers might’ve been like as children filling your mind, curiosity growing.
What was he like before Evelyn? Before he married? Before he met her? 
“get out!” Jungkook barks, taking a towel from the sink to hit his brother with it, the laughing older male running off back into the living room, where you follow- carefully carrying the two cups of coffee Jungkook had forgotten in his playful rage against his sibling. 
“Thank you.” His mother says, smiling warmly, while his father only nods, face however gentle, and friendly. You sit down after that, in the corner of the sofa, listening to the two brothers fighting in Jungkook’s office, before his father speaks up.  
“My son mentioned that you two have.. Quite the age gap between you.” He says, and you nod. “And that doesn’t bother you?” He asks, and you shake your head. 
“It.. Did. In the beginning.” You admit, his father now visibly interested in your answer as he didn’t expect you to admit something like that so outright. “I was worried that he might.. Think of me as childish. Or that our ambitions might differ too much, since we’re both at different points in our lives.” You explain, his mother now listening in as well. “I mean.. Let's just take family-planning for example. He’s a lot closer to settling down than I am, technically.” You explain, and his mother nods. “But I realized that, if we talk about these issues, we can solve them together. Make compromises, so we can meet in the middle, so to speak.” 
“Has he spoken to you about his.. Past marriage?” His father asks, and you nod. 
“I’ve met his former wife a few times. And I’m.. Somewhat aware of the things that happened in the past- though I’m sure he didn’t tell me everything yet.” You say. “And I respect that. We’re still.. At the very beginning of our relationship after all.” You chuckle a little, nervously, but suddenly, his father smiles. 
“Stop interrogating my girlfriend just because I’m not here.” Jungkook interrupts the conversation, protectively sitting in between his father and you- though that wasn’t the smartest idea, since his father just quietly pats his back rather roughly, making Jungkook complain in embarrassment. “What the fuck dad?” He asks, but his father just laughs. 
“Stop hitting him darling, you’re gonna break his back!” His mother complains, and you can’t help but smile at the mention of that petname- making it clear where Jungkook got the habit from, since he calls you the same most of the time. It’s cute. 
You’re happy to see that he has such a nice family.  
“So, when are you gonna bring a kid into this world, huh?” His brother asks shamelessly, making Jungkook choke on his water. “Hey, come on. I’ve got the second one on the way, you can’t make me do all the work here!” He teases, making Jungkook turn towards you. 
“I’m so sorry- if you want them to leave, just tell me.” He says towards you, but much to his dismay, you shake your head. 
“I don’t mind them.” You say, and his brother grins, before he leans forwards towards you. 
“Did you know that Jungkook used to be scared of the microwave-” Jonghyun starts, and Jungkook throws his head back, groaning in agony.  
All while you can’t help but be happy that his family seems to like you. 
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Later on, once they all left again, he talks to you once more in the living room after the dishes had been washed, and you both had gotten ready to just laze around and go to bed later. “I’m really sorry they showed up unannounced. That was terrible of them-” He shakes his head still, holding you in his arms on the couch while a random TV series plays quietly in the background, commercial break ongoing. “-and I’m also sorry I left you alone with them. I hope they didn’t interrogate you too hard.” 
“It was fine.” You brush off, telling the truth. “We just.. Spoke about the age gap.” You explain, and Jungkook sighs. “And I told them that, you know, yes, it did bother me at first. And I know that it bothered you too.” You admit, making him stare blankly, listening to your words. “But that we.. Work together. If problems occur, we find compromises. Put equal effort into it so we meet in the middle, you know what I mean?” You say, and he nods. 
“Yeah, I see where you’re coming from. What did they answer to that?” He wonders, but you shrug. 
“He just asked if I knew Evelyn, and I said that yes, I’ve met her a few times.” You remember. “And that I know you probably didn’t yet tell me everything, but that it’s fine because neither have I. Since we’re still.. Pretty new.” You offer. “And then you came back, so we didn’t talk further.” 
“My brother can be so terrible, I swear.” He huffs. “Two years older and thinks he’s always got the upper hand in everything..” He mumbles. 
“Well, from what I’ve been told, he is a bit quicker with things than you.” You giggle. “Second marriage, second child-” 
“Second job after he kept slacking off at his first, second house because he got kicked out of the first, second dog because one wasn’t enough-” Jungkook goes on, and you can’t help but laugh out loud. “-Hey, stop laughing about that!” He complains, moving his hands to pinch your sides, only causing your laughter to intensify as you try and slip away from him. But you’re unsuccessful, rather ending up somewhat manhandled down into the couch, with him above you, your wrists pressed into the cushions below you. 
It doesn’t take long for him to lean in and kiss you, the knowledge of everything that happened today settling in. You’ve been so understanding about everything, calm and collected even though he knew that you must’ve been at least somewhat intimidated by the whole situation. You still handled it perfectly in his opinion, facing it all head on. 
He’s so in love with you.  
His kisses slow down after a moment or two- and you know why they do. He’s not really a fan of getting heated on the couch of all places, preferring the bedroom or maybe the shower- and sure, you have indeed gotten rather scandalous in other places of his house before, but if he can control himself, he does.  
Laying next to you, your head on his biceps, he just observes you for a moment before he speaks again.  
“Move in with me.” He says, and you’re caught by surprise at the sudden proposal. “I’ve got.. Enough space. A room you can have just for yourself if you ever want some time to yourself. I can continue renting out your old place too if you’d like.” He tells you, hand resting on your waist. “Just.. I’d like to have you close. Every day.” He says. “And night of course.” 
“I mean.. if you’re okay with that?” You say, unsure. “you don’t have to do it just because.. we’re a couple, you know? I can be.. a little chaotic, and loud, you might not-“ 
“I wouldn’t have proposed the idea if I didn’t want it, darling.” He chuckles, easing your mind quite a bit. “Think about it though, before you answer me now. I realize I might’ve come off a bit.. strong with how I phrased it.” He hums, slowly sitting up again with you next to him. “What I really want to say is.. If you wanted to move in with me, I’d welcome you with open arms so to say.” He offers, and you nod.  
“I’ll think about it.”  
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“Hm?” You wonder still half asleep, Jungkook right behind you with his hands running over your skin, legs entangled and lips kissing the back of your neck.  
“You’ve been sleeping for ages.” He complains lightly, his own eyes barely open. “been waiting for you to wake up.”  
“..whats.. why?” You ask, moving a little to stretch your legs out.  
“hm, why..” he just repeats, hands traveling further and further until one of them finds its way beneath your light shirt you wear, bare chest warm beneath his palm. It’s clear to you now what exactly he’s been aiming for when waking you up- intentions obvious, especially with the way he presses himself into you from behind.  
You do have to admit, that it’s been a few days since the last time you two got together like this. With some stress at his work and your own life, you didn’t want to bother him too much- rather deciding to let him reach out on his own, so you know that he’s up for it.  
“You smell nice.” Jungkook comments, running his nose over the crook of your neck. “Is that the.. pink bottle you left here last time?” He asks a bit slurred, himself still somewhat asleep.  
“Hmhm.” You nod. “It’s.. yeah. I forgot it.” You explain, moving a bit to give him better access, and also to show that you’re okay with this. “it’s body lotion.”  
“smells better on you than it does on me.” He chuckles. 
“You used it?” You wonder, and he shrugs, before moving to position himself over you, reaching into his bedside table for a condom.  
“Hey you left it here!” He defends himself. “but it didn’t smell as nice on me.” He admits, shrugging before he moves to shed his cotton pajama pants- the shirt long gone, a habit of his during the night.  
“Well, now I’m here.” You say, and he nods, smiling.  
“You are.” He agrees, tapping your hips to make you lift them, his hands pulling down your underwear and sleep shorts off in one go. He gives the condom to you for now, before he lifts your legs over his shoulders, head lowering between your thighs to eat you out. He’s got a habit of holding eye contact with you during the act, and even now, he does so- soaking up every one of your reactions, eager to see you restless beneath his touch.  
This is the type of love he’d hoped for when he married. This is what he thought could grow from nothing.  
But he’s realizing now that that was a mistake- you can’t just hope for the best and then be disappointed when things don’t turn out the way you’d wanted them. There’s got to be effort put into it, and knowing that now makes him accept the fact that his ex wife isn’t the only reason his marriage failed. He himself also made mistakes, many of them- agreeing to going out with her when he didn’t love her being one of them.  
There’s no clear villain and no obvious victim in his story.  
Your skin is soft beneath his hands as he runs them up and down the sides of your legs- body squirming from his actions beneath them, as you experience things you haven’t before. You’ve never really had anyone ever pay so much attention to you in any way- be it sexually or just with the way that he calls daily to make sure he at least checks in with you whenever you’re apart. And thinking about it, there’s nothing speaking against living together- what's really the worst that could happen? 
You’ve been through the worst. You know that Jungkook would never be anything close to that. 
Your hand finds its way into his hair, unsure where else it’s supposed to go- and you’re faintly apologetic about the way you’re most likely tugging on it the second he pushes you over the edge- but he’s visibly uncaring of it, none of it bothering him it seems. He chuckles as he comes back up to you, wiping his face with his hand before he watches you open your eyes again to look at him. “You okay?” He chuckles, and you nod. 
“I want to move in with you.” You say, and he’s caught off guard, eyes wide for a second before he leans back a little to properly look at you.
“You sure?” He wonders, and you nod. 
“Hmhm.” You nod. “I.. Want to.” You tell him, and he smiles, clearly excited.  
“Okay.” He nods. “Okay! Yeah, we can.. Uhm, I mean, I’ve got the next week and a half set for home-office, so I can help you with the furniture?” He proposes, and you laugh, almost in relief, before he steals the still wrapped condom from your hand that's been holding it the entire time, face leaning down to kiss you.
"But first, let me love you some more."
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Three Generations - Rooster
Pairing: Rooster / Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Rooster is a Dad; Female Reader with No Name or Physical Description, No Y/N, Third Person POV; OC Bradshaw Kid without Physical Description (minus a reference to his smile being similar to Rooster's)
This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.
Summary: Rooster is married. Maverick found out when the paperwork got filed with the Navy, but he doesn’t have a chance to ask Rooster about it until after the mission
Master List
Sequel: A Day with Duckie
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Maverick remembered the text that he received from Ice about four years prior to the mission.
The kid’s married.
Three little words that felt like bullets straight to Maverick’s heart. Bradley was married. Married. Maverick shouldn’t have been surprised, really. Bradley was more than old enough for marriage. Especially for a naval officer. But it still hurt, it still stung that he wasn’t there to see it.
Ice gave him Rooster’s wife’s name but he couldn’t find many photos of the two of them together. Rooster’s wife’s profiles were all set to private, but Maverick did find some photos posted by one of the bridesmaids. He printed them out and hung them up in his hangar, next to his old photos of Rooster. Even if he cried like a baby while he did it.
It wasn’t until after the mission, when they were sitting alone in their hospital room together, that Maverick had a chance to ask Rooster about his wife.
“You got married?” Maverick asked Rooster quietly.
Maverick gestured to his own left ring finger, which made Rooster fiddle with his gold band. Staring down at his wedding ring for a moment, Rooster tried to figure out how to respond properly to Maverick’s question. Nodding slowly, Rooster turned back to Maverick.
“Yeah, I did,” Rooster answered quietly.
“Congratulations,” Maverick replied softly.
“Thank you,” Rooster returned, fiddling with his ring again.
“How did you meet?”
“She was in the Navy. She worked in intelligence, though. We met through mutual friends and I asked her out. We went on a date to a karaoke bar and never looked back,” Rooster explained, smiling at the memories. “I asked her to marry me about two years after that.”
“And you’re happy?”
“Extremely,” Rooster replied without missing a beat. “Her and Kai, they’re my whole life.”
“Kai?” Maverick asked curiously.
Rooster, seemingly realizing his slip, shrunk a bit into himself. He looked nervous. Incredibly nervous. Fiddling with his wedding band again, Rooster slowly turned back to Maverick.
“Kai is my son.”
“You’re a dad?” Maverick asked, unable to stop the emotion from dripping into his tone.
Not only had Maverick missed Rooster’s wedding, but he also missed the birth of Rooster’s child, and all of the little milestones along the way. And that ache in his chest quietly intensified, though Maverick tried to not let it show.
“Yeah, I am.”
Rooster reached for his phone, pulled up a photo, and passed his phone over to Maverick. He grabbed Rooster’s phone and stared down at the photo. And Maverick would have been lying if he said that he didn’t get a little choked up at the sight of it.
Rooster and a woman that Maverick knew was Rooster’s wife were standing together with a little baby boy sandwiched between them. A little boy that had his father’s smile—albeit one with a few missing teeth—and a matching Hawaiian shirt. Rooster’s wife smiled widely at the camera with her cheek smushed against the top of her son’s head.
And Rooster looked happier in that photo than Maverick had seen him since before Carole passed, even though Rooster wasn’t looking in the direction of the camera. No, Rooster was far too busy smiling at his little family.
“Are they coming to see you?” Maverick asked, handing the phone back to Rooster.
“Yeah, uh, their flight lands tomorrow morning. Phoenix said that she would pick them up from the airport and bring them here,” Rooster explained, placing his phone aside. Rooster paused before turning back to Maverick. “And . . . can you . . . can you not mention the part about me defying a direct order and everything that happened afterwards?”
“I won’t,” Maverick promised, earning a thankful nod from Rooster. “But, at some point, Brad, I think that you should be honest with her about it. As much as you can, given the sensitive information, anyways. Not that I’m in any position to give anyone marriage advice but . . . you should be honest with your wife.”
“I will,” Rooster returned quietly. “It’s just that she gets really stressed when I’m in the hospital. I don’t want to overwhelm her.”
“Are you scared about her reaction?”
“A little bit,” Rooster admitted honestly.
Maverick chuckled, reminiscing about how Goose always looked when he was worried about telling Carole about whatever shenanigans they got into back in the day.
“I’m sure that you’ll be fine.”
~~~~~
Maverick and Rooster were discharged from the hospital the next day.
Phoenix, along with Rooster’s wife and Kai, were supposed to pick them up. Rooster spotted Phoenix’s car and walked after it. The passenger door flew open and Rooster’s wife. She walked around the car to see that Phoenix was helping Kai out of the back seat.
Kai slid out of Phoenix’s car and immediately perked up when he spotted his dad quickly making his way over. But knowing her son, Rooster’s wife snatched him by the back of his shirt before he could run out into the parking lot.
“You have to hold Mommy’s hand when you’re in the parking lot,” she reminded her son.
She looked up and down the road before leading Kai across it. But once Kai safely stepped up onto the sidewalk, she released his hand and let Kai run to Rooster.
“Daddy!” Kai yelled happily, running into Rooster’s waiting arms.
Bradley bent down and scooped Kai up. Holding Kai to his chest, Rooster pressed a kiss to Kai’s hair as he rocked his son back and forth in his arms. Almost like Rooster was trying to soothe himself with his son’s presence.
“I missed you so much, Kai.”
Rooster pressed another kiss to Kai’s head before turning to his wife. She looked like she was trying to hold it together and just barely managing it. But when she caught Rooster’s gaze, she let some more emotion show. Wordlessly, Rooster held out an arm to her and she immediately ran into his embrace, officially reuniting the family of three.
“I’m alright,” Rooster assured her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m okay.”
As Rooster reassured his wife and son that he was fine, Maverick walked around them to stand beside Phoenix. After his wife and Kai were soothed, Rooster turned to introduce them to Maverick.
“Guys, this is Maverick. Mav, this is my wife,” Rooster stated, wrapping his arm around his wife’s waist.
“The man who pulled your papers?” Rooster’s wife asked sharply. Maverick winced at her tone.
“We got past that,” Rooster assured his wife, which caused her to immediately relax.
“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you then,” she replied with a much warmer tone. Rooster’s wife walked over to give Maverick a proper hug that Maverick was happy to return. “And to put a face to the name after all the stories.”
“It’s nice to meet you as well,” Maverick replied, releasing Rooster’s wife.
“And this is my son, Kai,” Rooster added, bouncing his son lightly on his arm. Smiling at his son with complete and utter adoration, Rooster nudged him in the side. “Kai, this is Maverick.”
“Hi,” Maverick greeted Kai softly.
“Hi,” Kai returned shyly, resting his head on Rooster’s shoulder.
“Mav’s a pilot like me,” Rooster explained to his son, causing Kai to pick his head up again. “And he used to fly around with your Grandpa Goose.”
“Really?” Kai asked his dad, earning a nod from Rooster.
Kai stared over at Maverick with newfound curiosity and Maverick tried to not choke up at the clear similarities between Kai and Rooster. Kai wasn’t so much his dad’s twin, but he had that same expression and look in his eye that Maverick saw all the time on a younger Bradley. Offering a small encouraging smile to Kai, Maverick decided to approach.
“Yeah, your Grandpa Goose used to sit in my back seat,” Maverick replied, nodding along. “And he was the best at what he did.” Trying to not burst out into tears at the fact that he was talking about Goose while Baby Goose was holding Grandbaby Goose, Maverick managed a small smile. “Your grandpa’s callsign was Goose. Your dad’s is Rooster. What bird do you want as your callsign, Kai?”
“Mommy calls me ‘Duckie’,” Kai informed Maverick, ending his sentence with a giggle.
“Yes, because he’s impossible to pull out of the water once he’s in,” Rooster explained, shaking his head playfully at his son. “And he pretends that he can’t hear us.”
“No,” Kai giggled, clearly lying.
“He’s also a great liar,” Rooster quipped, tickling Kai’s stomach.
Kai squealed and pushed his dad’s hand away, but he couldn’t stop giggling. And Maverick tried to not burst out into tears again. Baby Goose had a baby. The little baby that he used to babysit and take for extra ice cream had a little baby of his own now.
God, Maverick was getting old.
~~~~~
After spending the day with the rest of the Dagger Squad, Maverick and the Bradshaw family of three retired to Maverick’s quaint residence in town. Rooster grew up in the house after Carole’s death and his old bedroom was perfectly preserved from that time.
It was only about a half an hour before Kai’s bedtime when Rooster approached Maverick in the kitchen.
“Can you watch Kai for a second?”
“Yeah, of course,” Maverick agreed, nodding along immediately. “But why? Where are you going?”
“I just thought that I should tell her,” Rooster explained, keeping his voice low. “There were too many close calls as it was with the rest of the Dagger Squad, so I need to tell her. About the mission and . . . my little stunt.”
“The couch is very comfortable,” Maverick joked, earning a tired sigh from Rooster. “You’ll be fine.”
“I hope so,” Rooster replied, straightening up.
Rooster thanked Maverick before the two rejoined Kai and Rooster’s wife out in the living room. Rooster managed to find an old Connect 4 game in the cabinet and his wife tried to teach Kai how to play. They were sitting around the coffee table with Kai studying the layout closely.
“Can I play with you, Kai?” Maverick asked, moving to sit down beside Kai.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, not taking his eye off of the board.
Maverick saw Rooster lean down to whisper something in his wife’s ear before she nodded. Turning to Kai, Rooster’s wife leaned over and tapped him on the shoulder, causing Kai to look up.
“Behave for Maverick, okay?”
“Okay, Mommy.”
Rooster and his wife got up and headed out of the room to talk. Kai turned to Maverick once his parents were out of sight.
“Why did they leave?”
“They just needed to talk about some things. Adult things. Nothing fun,” Maverick stated, causing Kai to nod with a slight pout. Maverick moved to take the seat that Rooster’s wife was sitting in and picked up a yellow piece. “Did you take a plane to get over here, Kai?”
“Yeah,” Kai stated, smiling up at Maverick.
“Do you like flying?”
“Yeah.”
“Has your dad ever taken you flying before?” Kai shook his head dramatically, causing Maverick to nod along. “You just fly with your mom then?”
“Yeah. Daddy gets scared,” Kai informed Maverick, leaning on the coffee table.
“Well, it’s a little scary when you’re a pilot and someone else is flying the plane,” Maverick replied, very well acquainted with the control freak tendencies that popped up when a naval aviator flew commercial. “And your daddy just wants to make sure that you and everyone else is safe.”
“Mommy tells him to relax,” Kai replied, emphasizing the word with a wave of his hand.
Kai must have seen his mom do that exact routine at least a thousand times because he seemed to know the part by heart. He had the expression, the wave of his hand, and the tone down perfectly. Maverick couldn’t help but laugh.
“Does he listen to her?” Maverick quipped, failing at hiding his amusement.
“Sometimes,” Kai answered with a giggle.
“Like you?”
“Yeah.”
Maverick was about to ask Kai another question when Rooster’s wife’s voice echoed around the house. The door to Rooster’s old bedroom did little to muffle the shock and sheer incredulousness of Rooster’s wife’s question.
“You did what!?”
“Have you ever seen the moon, Kai?” Maverick asked the toddler, quickly getting up to his feet.
“Yeah,” Kai replied as Maverick scooped him up into his arms.
“Well, looking again wouldn’t hurt,” Maverick reasoned, setting Kai on his hip. “And maybe we’ll even see a few stars too.”
“Oh-kay,” Kai agreed with a sigh, laying his head on Maverick’s shoulder.
“And where was your brain during all of this!?” Rooster’s wife snapped loudly.
“Yeah, let’s go look at the stars, Kai,” Maverick stated quickly, hurrying out the back door.
“Was that Mommy?” Kai asked, staring back at the house.
“No, I don’t think it was her.”
Sequel: A Day with Duckie
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you keep his shirt, he keeps his word
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The strong aroma of coffee woke you up that morning. It confused you because you were absolutely sure that your coffee maker was still in a box somewhere. Opening your eyes, it only took you a matter of five seconds to realize that you weren’t in your new apartment.
You were in Carmen Berzatto’s bed.
What started off as a night where you were meeting your best friend’s work friends ended up with you in the bed of one of them.
You never did this kind of thing. You never met a guy at a bar and went back to his place.
There was just something about Carmen.
When Sydney first introduced you to him in that small bar near The Bear, you literally fell in love with his eyes. They were this beautiful shade of blue. You instantly got jealous of him because of them. How ordinary your eyes were compared to his.
You wanted to stay far away from him, scared that you’d do or say something stupid. He eventually made his way back towards you and the rest was history.
Sydney gave you a rundown before you met everyone. She informed you that Carmen was shy as hell and often kept to himself. She also said to not be offended if he did so.
It surprised you when he made his way towards you and struck a conversation. It started off a little slow but there was this unspoken connection that blossomed.
He was shy in a totally adorable way and super charming. Sydney and everyone else that worked with him on a near daily basis was shocked at how he was acting. They didn’t dare think that he’d be the guy to approach a woman and have an actual conversation.
You sat with him in the little corner of the bar and talked about everything. He wanted to know what made you move to Chicago. How you knew Sydney. What your favorite food was.
His last question surprised you, “Would you like to go back to my place?”
Your response surprised you the most, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Fast forward to eight hours later and you were still tangled up in his sheets. You sat up and looked around for your belongings. You quickly found your phone, purse, jeans and undergarments. The shirt you wore last night was nowhere to be found.
You grabbed the first white shirt that you saw and slipped your clothes back on.
This was all new territory to you. You had no idea what you should do. Thank him for a great evening? Give him a high five? Run out without saying anything?
The door to his bedroom was cracked open. You heard the soft sounds of the radio playing.
As quietly as you could, you walked down the hallway and made your way to the main living area. You spotted Carmen in his kitchen. Shirtless.
He was at the stove. The sizzling of the pan and the smell made your stomach growl. Carmen turned to grab a plate when he saw you standing in the doorway.
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” He asked you.
You nodded, “Uh, yeah I did surprisingly.”
“Why is that?”
“I’m one of those people that has a hard time falling asleep if it isn’t in my own bed.”
“I’m glad that you were comfortable enough here to where that wasn’t a problem.” He made his way towards you and tugged on your- his shirt, “Looks good on you.”
You looked down and he still had a grip on you, “I normally don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Have one night stands. Going back to a guy’s apartment after barely meeting him isn’t really my thing.” You confessed. Part of you hoped he believed you. The other part didn’t want to be ashamed if it was something that you normally did.
One night stands weren’t something to be embarrassed about. You were a single woman who could date/hook up with anyone she wanted.
“Was this just a one night kinda thing to you?” Carmen asked.
You shrugged your shoulders, “What do you think?”
You wanted him to answer before you could. It was killing you inside to figure out what he was thinking.
“I think that last night, I met a woman that I would really like to get to know better.”
You couldn’t help but smile, “Really?”
He nodded and grinned, “Yes, really. Plus, you look great in my clothes and out of them.”
“Well that was a smooth line if I ever heard one.”
“There’s plenty more of that if you stick around with me,” Carmen leaned closer and placed a sweet kiss on your lips, “I made you breakfast.”
“You’re going to spoil me, Berzatto.” You set your purse down before taking a seat at his counter. He served you a delicious looking omelette with a cup of coffee.
“I plan to do so as long as you’ll let me. I’m a man of my word.”
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toji-girl · 2 months
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Can you please write something like pregnant reader cries to Toji about something insignificant to him but gets mad at him for not taking her seriously at first? Like hurt/comfort and fluff 💖💖thank you
I haven't been pregnant for a hot minute so I'm trying to remember what I got super upset over which I think was mostly over food lmaoo and ofc! I love writing for Toji and his pregnant wife 🩷 also, this may be more than an insignificant thing but I hope you still enjoy! thank you for asking for this! I love Toji dkgje
tags: pregnant! fem reader + angst with a happy ending
No one warned you about the emotions that would wrack your entire being when you got pregnant, at first you'd thought you glow and be bouncy and airy but right now you are anything but.
There was also no warning about how bad your cravings would get.
Which meant your husband was having to wake up at all times of the night to go get you something. "You wanted to knock me up and think of this as training for when the baby gets here." You tease.
But what you really didn't think about was how far you'd go for said cravings.
All night, you spent awake listening to Toji snore away while you tried your best to get comfortable with your pillows until your stomach started to growl, which wouldn't be a bad thing but seeing that it was a little after three in the morning you still needed something sweet.
You gently pushed his shoulder trying to rouse him from his sleep, it was something he told you to always do when you need something. "Babe? I want some chocolate cake. Please?" You begged softly.
With the whine in your voice, it irritated him. Over the last few weeks, his sleep schedule was already in hell and here he is getting woken up. "What?" He asked clearly upset that you woke him up this early.
You frowned at his tone feeling your bottom lip quiver and then a flash of anger made your blood boil and it hurt your feelings.
"Nothing, I'll go get it." You huffed and got off the bed with a heavy sigh when your swollen feet touched the cool hardwood floor, your belly round and swollen made it hard to see anything really.
But that still didn't stop you from getting dressed with Toji still sleeping while you attempted your best to shove your feet into shoes before leaving out the front door, alone and in search of the chocolate cake that was calling your name loud and needy.
The night was crisp causing you to wrap your jacket more around your achy body, with each step more tears streamed down your face, and a mixture of feelings washed over you like a high tide.
Part of you was more than livid that Toji didn't wake up, but the bigger side knew he was exhausted, the man worked his ass off for you and the upcoming baby boy you'd welcome in a few weeks.
You heaved a heavy sigh shielding your vision from the neon signs that shone down on you, the sidewalk was still damp from the earlier rai, thankfully your favorite place was just a few blocks away.
With it being a few minutes away from four in the morning a lot of people weren't out but you still kept an eye out wondering if Toji ever woke up, but that idea soon left when you pushed the doors open and walked inside the Konbini that greeted you with a sweet smell.
Immediately you greeted the worker with a smile and nob before waddling to the aisle with one thing on your mind as you grabbed a few containers of cake and other items before paying for it all.
The walk home was a lot longer seeing that you popped open a slice of cake to enjoy, usually, you'd have a fork but pregnancy brain is true and a real thing so it was forgotten but right now you didn't care.
Ten minutes later you pushed open the front door tired and full when Toji all but jumped you, his arms snaked around your waist pulling you into his chest. "Where the hell did you go woman? I called you only to see your phone still here. What were you thinking leaving the house without me? For some cake?" He asked exasperated.
You pulled away from him and opened another thing of cake feeling your eyes water. "You didn't want to do it, and I understand why, but I couldn't sleep, and I need this cake whether or not you believe me."
He watched you settle on the couch getting comfortable while he rubbed at his face sinking down by your feet which he pulled into his lap. "I do believe you," Toji replied with a sigh looking at you.
"You don't take my cravings seriously, you like to tease me about and I-" You stopped to wipe at your eyes as you shifted in your spot.
Toji frowned and began to massage your feet feeling the guilt eat at him, the idea of you walking around alone at night while heavily pregnant made his stomach sink with worry. "I ain't tryin' to upset you doll, 'm sorry." He murmured softly kissing your ankle.
Once he was done giving you a massage he washed his hands per your request and then sat back down to feed you, he was better at apologizing this way rather than words. "I forgive you, I love you."
He smiled and leaned in to kiss you gently. "I love you too darlin'."
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hollowdeath · 4 months
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hii! I love love loveee ur harry fic. can I request a modern au where harry and fem reader are both famous actors, they get paired up to do a movie where they have to do a s3x scene, and things get pretty heated off set as well ~
hi! thank you so much for requesting, i really enjoyed writing this! i hope you like it!
pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)
summary: you're filming your first romance movie that features a sex scene with harry potter (early 20's), an actor you've only ever seen on the big screen. despite both of your nerves, a growing chemistry between you two leads to something more in the dressing room.
content warning: smut!!! dry humping, oral sex, penetration
word count: 8.7k (i can't write short blurbs i swear lol)
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you were currently sitting in the hair and makeup chair chatting with the stylist about each other's respective careers, laughing and messing around before your official call time. you always went out of your way to talk to the crew on any set you worked, not just to be respectful, but also to make everyone comfortable around you right away.
it was a little hard to grasp from your perspective as you were only thrust into the spotlight a few years ago, but you were in enough successful movies that you were now pretty recognizable to most people. not that long ago you were just like everyone else, a fan of celebrities yourself who went to premiers and fawned over meeting them. today, those same people are technically your coworkers. it's something you're still learning to accept as your new normal.
that being the case, it was easy for people to feel a bit intimidated by you. you were well-liked, by both fans and people in the industry, and already highly-acclaimed with quite a few notable awards/nominations under your belt in just a couple years. and while you took your acting seriously, in your real life you were very different from the stoic characters you played. funny, warm, personable, always trying to lighten the mood - you were a pleasure to work with in every sense, so the intimidating preconception people had of you would quickly melt away.
"wow, jen, it must be so cool being able to work with so many celebrities all around the world," you sighed. the stylist, jenny, gives you a bewildered look in the reflection of the mirror. "well, you do that too y'know? you're one of those celebrities that people will ask me, 'oh my god, what's she like?'" she laughs at you, finishing up the final details of your hair.
you give her a half smile, feeling a blush rise on your cheeks. "okay, well, i guess…but it's not the same. i'd love to travel as much as you do. i know it's for work, but i'm sure you get to see some pretty incredible places," you gush. jenny smiles back at you.
"i do, it's nice and all, but you get to be on the big screen with some pretty handsome faces," she teases. "i mean, that movie with timothee you just did?" she practically moans. "i would do anything for that boy," she laughs.
your blush only worsens. being a young woman in the industry you're very often paired with actors around your age, almost always men, to have a romance plot line with. it seems like no matter how artistic, action-packed, or sad the movie is, they just can't let you leave without having you makeout with said actor at least a million times before getting 1 good take. after a while it becomes so routine that it loses all novelty. kissing becomes meaningless and these 'heartthrobs' just become coworkers to you.
"please, timothee's like my brother at this point," you roll your eyes, pulling out your phone to check the time. just a few more minutes before you have to leave and be on set. "and i'd much rather do his makeup than makeout with him in front of everyone again," you laugh, putting your phone back in your pocket.
"well, y'know, i was doing the potter boy's makeup just before i came in. wouldn't mind making out with him a few times, lucky duck," she teases you, starting to pack up her equipment.
harry potter. the name was familiar to you. he was an actor around your age who started getting more roles at the same time you did. you always seemed to miss each other at award shows and premiers, so you haven't been properly introduced yet, but you had been somewhat excited to work with him on this movie.
it was your first proper romance, a book adaptation that you had actually read just a few years prior on your own. you knew the director well and you were his first choice when casting the lead role. at first you were a bit hesitant to accept because you didn't even enjoy the little romance you did in your previous movies, so you weren't sure how you'd feel doing an entire film centered on it. but robert, the director, had convinced you to at least read the script, and you were hooked from there.
it was less of a romance and more of a drama, focused on the downfall of a marriage due to the wife, you, having an affair. that's where potter came in. you learned he was cast for the role of the 'side piece' only a month or so before filming began, and you weren't sure how to feel. on one hand, like jenny said, he wasn't bad looking from what you had seen in his films. however, when you previously did these types of scenes with costars, you at least knew them previously and could be friendly with them between takes. you had never met potter, not even seen him off-screen, and now you have to have an entire affair with him on camera.
that's another thing. you've only ever done heated kissing scenes before, maybe a little undressing and implied nudity, but nothing too explicit. this would be your first real 'sex scene', which just added another layer of awkwardness to the situation on top of not even knowing the basics about each other. to say you were anxious about filming those scenes would be an understatement.
"then you can take my place, cuz i'm not looking forward to it. you know i've never even met him before?" you ask as you stand up from the chair, stretching your body after sitting for over 2 hours. "just gonna introduce myself like, 'yeah, hi, i'm [y/n], nice to meet you. you ready to pretend to fuck passionately for the next 4 hours in front of the catering staff?'" you joke, putting on a voice and pretending to shake jenny's hand. she laughs at you, pulling her hand back and waving you away.
"oh hush, you're gonna do just fine. hell, you might even like it." she gives you a smirk as you just laugh her off. you exchange goodbyes with her, wishing her well and thanking her excessively for her time.
as you're walking through a maze of hallways to find your set, you run into robert. he looks like he's seen a ghost when you greeted him.
"oh…[y/n]...i've been meaning to talk to you…" he says nervously, trying to keep his tone positive. you narrow your eyes at him. you've worked with robert long enough to know when he's about to tell you something he knows will annoy you.
"robert…" you warn him, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. he sighs. "look, just walk with me." he tells you as he walks away, motioning you to follow.
as you catch up to him, he begins trying to find the best way to break the news to you. "see, well…we uh…we think it's best if, uh…maybe…" he stammers, causing you to look at him with concern. you've never seen him this nervous to tell you something. "what? just spit it out, rob." you tell him.
he sighs again, rubbing his forehead. "look, casting just isn't sure on this potter kid yet. we've shot a couple of his solo scenes already, but…" he trails off, trying to find the words again.
"but…?" you ask confused. he gives you an apologetic look. "but…we just need to see his chemistry with you first." robert says. you're just more confused, staring at him blankly. robert slows to a stop and turns to you, his hands raised in innocence.
"it's not my idea, but cast wants you and potter to shoot the sex scene today so they can decide if we're keeping him or not," he admits regretfully.
you're completely dumbfounded. there's a few moments of silence before you can even conjure up a response. "what?"
he sighs yet again, clearly stressed about the situation. "i know, trust me, i know, you weren't excited to do this scene to begin with but…think about it this way," his voice turns to the same fake positivity to try and reassure you.
"if we shoot all the lovey dovey stuff first just to find out there's no chemistry during the sex scene, then we just wasted all your time, all his time, and a lot of money…" he reasons with a strained voice. you're still giving him a death glare, arms crossed, not buying his excuses.
"robert, that doesn't even make any sense. wouldn't we build chemistry over time like any other movie? i thought i had at least a couple weeks to get to know this kid before… you know…" you trail off, blushing from both frustration and embarrassment.
"i know, i know, but cast is really pushing for this other guy, but i've wanted potter in this role as long as i've wanted you as my lead." he says desperately, his hands literally pleading with you. "please, [y/n], i know this isn't cool of me, but i'll do anything you need from me for the rest of filming. for the rest of my life!" he's joking, but there's a hint of seriousness in his voice. "just, please?"
you're still glaring at him, not happy that you're being put in this predicament. you take a second to breathe, trying to think past your anger, and see this from an outside perspective. realistically, even if you and potter did have chemistry outside of the sex scene, it didn't necessarily mean it would transfer over. by filming that first and getting it out of the way, there would be no awkward building of tension over the next few weeks knowing what's to come. and who's to say there even is any chemistry? then they'd end up having to switch him out for an entirely different actor, which could up a lot of time for paperwork and legal fees…
sighing, uncrossing your arms, you give robert a look of defeat. "fine."
robert's relieved, thanking you profusely as he continues to show you the way to the stage. he's trying to babble on about how you're going to do great, and there's nothing to be afraid of, but you can't focus on his words even a little bit because your heart is thumping so loud.
as you walk into the bustling room with robert leading the way, you can't help but search the room for potter's face. you want to at least see who you're going to be dry humping from 4 different angles.
recognizing different crew members you've worked with before, you smile and say hello to each of them as you continue analyzing each face in the room. you only kind of know what he looks like, so it might be a fruitless search, but it's the only thing that can distract you from your growing anxiety.
robert brings you to the catering table, telling you to make sure you eat and drink some water before being pulled into conversation with someone else and, eventually, leaving you behind completely. whatever, you think, he wasn't helping anyway.
grabbing for a water bottle, you drink at least half of it before feeling a tap on your shoulder. you're twisting the cap back on as you turn around.
harry potter.
you can instantly tell it's him, though he's now wearing glasses, something you don't remember seeing in his movies. he has a shy, nervous smile as he offers you his hand. "[y/f/n] [y/l/n], right? i'm harry potter," he introduces himself. "i guess we'll be filming together for the day."
you smile and shake his hand. "harry, hi, it's nice to meet you. and, yeah, i guess so…" you reply shyly, noticing that your hands are sweating, as well as his. he chuckles just a bit, reaching for a water bottle as well.
"yeah, i take it robert talked to you already?" he asks before he takes a drink. you nod, giving him an awkward smile. "he did…" you chuckle as well. "just a minute ago, actually."
harry nods in return. "yeah, he came by my room not even an hour ago to let me know." he states.
there's a few moments of awkward silence between the two of you before harry sighs and sets his water bottle down. he turns to you with his hands up just like robert.
"look, let's not be coy, yeah? this is weird as hell." harry states bluntly, a look of guilt on his face.
you let out a surprised laugh, setting your water bottle down as well. you turn to him, giving him your attention, curious to see what else he has to say.
harry briefly looks you up and down, his hands still raised. there's a hint of anxiety in his eyes before he blinks and shakes his head. "and, i'm just a big fan of yours in general, and this is really not how i wanted my first sex scene to play out, especially with you…" he emphasizes, his eyes widening at his own words.
"not that i didn't want it to happen at all, i definitely did, just, like…" he groans, throwing his head back and covering his face with his hands in frustration. you can't help but giggle at his nervous antics. you didn't know what to expect in terms of his personality, but you certainly didn't think he'd be so humble and shy. most actors you meet close to your age are either full of themselves or try too hard to be something they're not. you've made friends with plenty who aren't like that, but it's definitely more common than you expected.
with harry, however, he seemed very honest right away. he wasn't putting on a face to impress you, if anything he was failing miserably at that…but you found it really admirable. he reminded you of yourself, in a way.
after hearing you giggle at him, harry looks back at you with flushed cheeks. his brunette hair, an already messy fringe, was now even more disheveled. you continue to giggle at his expression, covering your smile as you look him up and down as well. tired converse, blue jeans, a maroon zip up, and a plain blue polo. you'd never think this kid was a famous actor based on his appearance. even his glasses looked old and bent out of shape.
but again, you found it admirable. no designer names, no flashy accessories. not that you found anything wrong with either of those things, it's just what you're used to seeing. it was refreshing, harry's simplicity.
he awkwardly chuckles with you, wringing his hands together nervously. "uh, what i'm meaning to say is…" he trails off. you interrupt his thoughts. "i know what you're saying," you reassure him. he looks back up at you. "you do?"
you laugh again. he's oddly innocent despite his age. "i do. i've never done this before, either." you admit. "oh, i know, i've seen all of your films plenty of times," harry beams, his nervousness melting away a bit. you're taken aback by his statement. "oh?" you respond.
he nods proudly. "oh yeah, i'm just a big film person in general so i'm constantly watching them at home. or on the plane. or in the dressing rooms…" he laughs. you smile warmly at him. again, something about him is so genuine to you. not afraid to be a fan.
"but, anyways, yeah, i just love your work. and i know you've worked with robert before, so i was over the moon when i heard he wanted me to work with you guys. that was one of my favorite films that year, y'know? definitely deserved more recognition than it got." harry rambles. 
blushing, you give him an incredulous look. "yeah, we have worked together before. i-i loved that film." you're clearly impressed with his knowledge of you and of cinema in general. that film wasn't even all that popular, and definitely not your most well-received work as far as the critics went. "thank you. really."
harry's smiling at you, admiring you in a way.
you blink a few times to come back to reality. "u-um, i love your work, too. i actually just went and saw your most recent one twice, before robert even told me we'd be working together." 
harry's shocked, his mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. "you…you've seen my movies?" he asks with a slight smile.
again, you can't help but giggle at him. his humility just keeps surprising you. "of course i have. you're not the only actor who enjoys films, y'know?" you tease him. he laughs, shaking his head.
"yeah, i'm…i'm just surprised, i figured you might not be familiar with me at all, really," he shrugs, still sounding in shock.
"well, we always miss each other at shows and such, i always meant to introduce myself, but…" you trail off. "i know! tell me about it! i've wanted to meet you for ages, seriously," harry gushes. 
smirking, you cross your arms and shift your weight. "well, what do you think now that we've met?" you ask, mostly sarcastically but also curious about his response.
he clears his throat, the nervousness coming back slightly. "u-uh, well, um…" he stumbles. "quite honestly, i didn't think you could be more beautiful in person." he admits like a schoolboy with a crush.
his response gives you butterflies. he's so adorably innocent, but such a gentleman at the same time. at no point does his admiration for you feel manufactured or forced. it's like he's truly just happy to be with you in this moment.
"well…thank you, harry," you respond. "you're not so bad yourself. i really adore the glasses." you admit with a blushing smile.
harry perks up immediately. "really?" he asks, excited and shocked at the same time. "they're prescription, actually, i'm blind as a bat…but no director wants me to wear them, they say i look like a total nerd," harry laughs, but you can tell it saddens him.
"nerds are hot." you shrug. harry's stunned for a moment before chuckling, his eyes softening for you. "right."
you and harry continue to chat for a while, losing all sense of time as the crew continue to work around you. you're mostly discussing films you both enjoy, and have incredibly similar taste. you love all the same directors, and grew up watching the same stuff.
this eventually leads to talking about both of your starts in acting, which are also strikingly similar. you discuss your experience so far as a woman in hollywood and he listens intently, asking questions with genuine curiosity and concern. he tells you about his experiences with theater growing up and the connections he made throughout his time performing.
you're completely enthralled with the conversation and feel like it could go on for days without any complaint. it's not until you hear robert calling both of your names that you look at the time and realize you've been talking with harry for nearly an hour and a half, but it feels like you just started 10 minutes ago.
harry follows you towards robert who's talking to the wardrobe team. you recognize a few faces and excitedly greet them, asking how everyone's been.
"potter, [y/n], these lovely folks are gonna walk you through how this works as far as clothing, don't be afraid to ask questions," robert told you both distractedly, his head already turned away before he ran off to help someone else out on set.
you and harry are separated and put into your respective outfits for your characters, as well as specific underwear for the scene. looking in the mirror at yourself in a simple dress, you can't help but feel the nerves coming back to you as you realize you actually have to film this scene with harry soon.
harry…
when you come back, he's already in his outfit and waiting for you. he's in an earth tone suit, his glasses taken off and his tie slightly undone. you have to admit that he looks extremely handsome, and decide to tell him so with a smirk. "says the most gorgeous girl in the room," he instantly quips, but you can see the blush blooming over his cheeks.
the wardrobe team basically teaches you both how to take off your clothes in a "movie style" that looks best on screen. specific movements can obstruct certain body parts from the camera, some take less time than others depending on what you're wearing, just little things that keep you from having to constantly reshoot the scene.
after a few tries of swiftly removing your dress, and taking glances at harry as he took his button-up off, you start to get the idea and have the motion memorized. you're laughing with one of the assistants you've met previously about the task and catching up with her in general. harry comes up behind you and also recognizes her, giving her a friendly hug. you're impressed with how personable he is with her, asking about her schooling and her roommates, parts of her life you hadn't even known about. you couldn't help but be in awe of him. he really was like you in so many ways.
before you get too comfortable, the wardrobe team informs you and harry that you have to also practice taking each other's clothes off for the camera. obviously, you thought, but you were still a bit shocked at the news.
you turned to harry, who's already waiting for you with that familiar smile. you smile back nervously. "hey, it's alright. it's just me." harry reassures you. the tone of his voice is so comforting it actually helps settle your nerves a decent amount.
both of you basically learn what the other person learned, you taking off harry's suit jacket and tie as he lifts your dress in one swift motion. the first run through you're a bit nervous and end up giggling most of the time. harry also laughs with you, making the atmosphere less tense. 
"feels like a dance, oddly enough," harry says, pretending to dance with you. you laugh and agree, dancing along with him.
after a few more awkward tries, you both start to get the hang of it and feel more comfortable with each other both physically and emotionally. you're cracking jokes, helping teach the other how to unclothe themselves quicker, just having a good time that comes so naturally to both of you. it doesn't take too many tries before you can efficiently take off each other's clothes without giggling or accidentally tickling the other.
before long you're both placed on set, a mock living room that resembles the apartment of harry's character. you and harry are given a few simple, non-sexual scenes to start with. the scripts are kept close by in case either of you need a refresher, but you both seem to have your lines memorized well and go through the scenes very naturally.
you were familiar with harry's acting of course, but something about how he performed his lines with you struck a different chord. his emotions were so raw, his timing felt natural, and his eyes told a whole story on their own. at one point you got so lost in them you missed a beat, quickly correcting yourself and focusing your gaze elsewhere.
you only had to redo them one or two times before moving on to the next scenes, which included kissing. you could feel your heart start to race again before harry's hands found their way to your shoulders from behind, a soft but firm grasp that sent chills down your spine.
"remember, it's just me," harry mumbles to you, coming around the side of you with a reassuring expression. somehow he knows exactly how to ease your nerves, and does it at the perfect times.
you're moved from the couch to the 'front door' area, where robert has you and harry mimic the steps he wants you to take before the cameras start rolling. "[y/n] opens the door, harry grabs her hand and pulls her back in," he directs you two like puppets as he shows you how and where to stand. 
harry has you by the hand, your palms still sweaty as he squeezes your hand for reassurance. you smile at him, and he smiles down at you before quickly looking back at robert's actions.
"harry backs her up to the door, back, back, back 'til it closes," harry's pressed against you, chuckling under his breath as he looks down at you. you try to hold back a smile.
"kissing, kissing, blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda," robert calls out despondently, flipping a page in his notebook. "harry, you take her shoulders and push her against the east wall," robert points to the wall just next to the door, and harry lightly moves you to the other wall, keeping his body close to yours.
"really sweet, yeah, but make sure it's passionate!" robert says dramatically, making both you and harry laugh.
you're instructed on the best way to take each other's clothes off for the cameras, and practice only a bit before officially having to start to scene. in the lull between the cameras being placed properly and the lighting being set, you start to nervously crack your knuckles and try to steady your breathing.
harry appears in front of you. he lightly grabs your chin with his fingers and kisses you softly on the lips. you're a bit stunned at first but can feel butterflies erupting in your stomach. you look up at harry with wide eyes, and he's chuckling again. "sorry. just thought i'd get the first one off-camera."
your mind is jumbled and you're staring at harry with, undoubtedly, a ridiculous face. you can't even remember the last time a kiss made you feel this way, or if one has ever made you feel this way before.
you suppress another smile as robert calls for places. somehow you're now less nervous about making out with him, if anything…you're excited about it. that soft, gentle kiss he gave you left you wanting more. maybe he just knew kissing you before being filmed would make it feel more natural on camera.
the scene starts, harry pulls you through the doorway, and backs you up against it until the door clicks shut. you're looking up at harry with wanting eyes, exploring his face as the camera pans to your left. once it pauses, harry pulls you in for an eager kiss.
your hand goes to his jaw, keeping it out of the way of the camera's view. you realize after a second just how comfortable you are kissing harry. not only are you comfortable, you're actually getting into it. and so is harry.
as another camera pans towards the wall beside you, harry grips your shoulders firmly and pushes you against it, reconnecting your lips with a desperation that felt completely real to you. it only fired you up more, running your hands through harry's hair and arching your body closer to him as the kiss became hungrier.
"cut," robert calls out in a casual tone, causing harry to pause and take a step away from you. you look at him for only a second before you have to look away, crossing your arms, a blush completely taking over your face.
what the fuck was that?
you've made out with plenty of guys plenty of times, but not like that. not even off-screen have you been kissed so passionately. either harry was the best kisser in the world, or you were confusing your feelings with your character's.
"that was great, guys, no issues, just gotta readjust," robert informs you as he works with a camera guy to get the angle right. "harry, can you come in again?" he asks, motioning harry towards you.
harry steps closer to you, giving you a shy smile like he didn't just change your entire life with one kiss.
you smile back at him, still blushing, mind still spinning. he may be pretty cute with his glasses on, but at least without them you can get a better look at his pretty green eyes. you wondered for a split second if his glasses would get in the way of you making out with him, but you quickly dismiss the thought as he's your costar. one that you barely met 3 hours ago.
the camera gets adjusted, and you're directed to just continue to the undressing part of the scene. you look over at harry, getting closer to him as you mumble, "do you think it'll be difficult, kissing and undressing at the same time?"
harry gives you an unsure face, looking at his tie before loosening it a bit. "might be, i'll get it started for you," he says, unbuttoning the top couple button of his shirt as well. you smile at him a bit. "just take your time, i'll help you." he says. something about the way he looks at you lets you know he means it, and you believe him.
as the scene starts, harry pulls you in for another breath-taking kiss, and the butterflies erupt in your stomach yet again. you know something's not right about this. well, actually, everything couldn't feel more right with harry's lips pressed against yours, but that's the problem. you're way too into this for it to just be acting for a movie, and it seems like harry's just as into it, if not more.
you quickly start undressing him, pulling off his suit jacket as he helps you, repeating the steps you practiced together. except now you were trying to keep the kissing going smoothly.
your fingers began fumbling with harry's shirt buttons, getting it and his tie off just in time for him to pull the skirt of your dress above your head, resuming your kiss with an eagerness that surprised you.
"cut, nice, one more time, little bit quicker guys," robert calls out. you pull away from harry breathlessly before trying to put your dress back on. harry redresses as well, and a stylist comes from the side to fix the back of his hair. he thanks them by their name and with a smile.
you and harry resume the scene again, picking up the speed just a bit as you attempt to make out and undress at the same time. the quicker you both moved, the more intense the kiss became, as if neither of you wanted to stop for even a moment to breathe.
"cut, nice, thanks guys," robert calls out, walking away to the furthest camera man.
you and harry redress, making funny comments to each other about the scene as you do. you notice your lipstick is on harry's lips, and you giggle as you tell him he should maybe wipe it off. "maybe i like this shade on me," he says sassily. you just roll your eyes and laugh at him.
as you chat a bit more, robert eventually comes up to you guys with a script in hand. "okay guys, we're gonna do this quick and try to get it in one take if we can. we wanna eliminate all the awkward for everyone, including the camera guy," he jokes, waving towards the camera man who laughs at him.
you and harry chuckle dryly, knowing what's coming next. 
a few crew people leave the room, whether robert told them to or they chose to you're not sure. it's down to just a few more people than you and harry, along with a camera. you look at each other, harry giving you a big smile before he starts undressing.
you follow suit, listening to robert's instructions. "the scene's barely 10 seconds of screen time, so we're only gonna do about 30 seconds of filming. yeah?" you both nod, setting your respective clothes to the side. you're quite a bit relieved at this news, glad that everyone else wants to get this over with as much as you do.
you're both wearing nude colored underwear, harry's briefs and your panties and strapless bra matching your skin tones enough that it could pass for nudity in the dim lighting. you feel a bit exposed, but not to the point of embarrassment, especially having harry next to you in just as little clothing as you.
"alright, now, i don't care if you're both virgins or whores, we all know what sex looks like, so i'm not gonna get too graphic here," robert jokes to lighten to mood, making you and harry laugh to yourselves as you give each other embarrassed looks.
"all i'm gonna do is tell you where to be and you guys just feel it out from there. sound good?" robert asks. "yeah," you both say at the same time. "but remember, you're a cheating bride, so put some oomph into it," robert jokes with you, walking towards the couch. you feel your cheeks heat up as harry tries not to laugh.
robert has you on the couch, laying with your head hanging off the arm as harry steadies himself above you. his arm has to be in a certain position to keep you covered for the camera, and as he repositions himself to their liking, you admire his body from your view. his chest is well built, his shoulders and collarbones creating shadows across his lovely pale skin…
you had to stop. this is just a job. he's an actor, you're an actor, you're acting together, nothing more. just be professional.
just before the camera's start rolling, harry looks down at you and gives you that same reassuring smile that makes your heart skip a beat every time. fuck. stop doing that.
"it's just me. okay? just you and me." his voice is so deep and he's so close to you, and the lighting behind him is making him glow. this moment could be a movie on its own.
"yeah," you breathe out, mesmerized by his words. just you and me. you could do that.
when the camera starts rolling, harry's hips start grinding into you slowly, his lips immediately connecting with yours. you involuntarily melt into him, your hands reaching for his shoulders as his leg starts rubbing against your panties. you let out a moan against harry's lips, and your grip on him gets tighter.
his hips become more and more rough with you, using your thigh to rub against rather than your panties themselves. it doesn't matter. you're still insanely turned on. and not just as your cheating character, but in real life, as yourself. 
as you throw your head back in pleasure, harry takes advantage and digs his head into your neck. he's softly biting at your skin as he brings a hand to one side of your face, keeping his other arm stable for the camera.
he brings you back in for a kiss, and your hands are back in his messy brunette locks. this time he moans, and his rocking hips begin to pick up speed, grinding with more force into you.
your face twists in pleasure, partially for the camera but mostly for harry. you can't believe how natural this feels for you. it's like it really is just the two of you, no camera, no pressure, just pleasure.
as robert cuts the scene, there's a tone to his voice that was different compared to his normally distracted, stressed voice. harry slowly backs up from you, an indistinguishable look on his face as he gives you space to sit up.
you sit up, and quickly walk over to grab your dress. you don't feel uncomfortable, you're just afraid that you got wet enough to soak through your panties and really don't want anyone to notice.
as you slip the dress over your head, you notice harry putting on his pants. you can't tell if you just saw him from a weird angle or if you looked too quick and were mistaken, but you could've sworn he had an erection he was stuffing in his trousers.
well, even if he did, that's normal, right? you're both young people practically dry humping each other and pretending to enjoy it, of course your bodies are going to think it's real and end up actually enjoying it…right?
that's what you tell yourself as you try your best to seem normal, fixing your hair and steadying your breathing as robert makes his way over to you.
"that was, uh…that was great. i don't think we'll have any problem keeping potter, yeah?"
with a heavy hand on your shoulder and a knowing smile, robert calls it a day for the rest of the crew still on set and says his goodbyes.
you're a bit confused by his statement, but try not to think about it too much. you turn to look at harry, but he's already gone.
you're a bit surprised. you thought for sure harry would want to maybe chat a bit after all that, but you tried not to be disappointed as you turned around and headed towards the wardrobe department to retrieve your real clothes.
after getting dressed and setting wardrobe's outfit back in their closet, you make your way out towards the hallways. your mind is still racing, but you're trying not to think too much about what just happened so you don't lose your mind.
on your way to your dressing room, you kept feeling like someone was watching you. the feeling made you walk a bit faster as you tried to remember which hallway was yours.
once finding the door, you quickly let yourself in until a hand stops the door. as you peak through the crack, you see a tie hanging over a messily buttoned-up shirt, and instantly recognized it was harry.
you open the door a bit more excited than you expected yourself to, and are completely in awe of the man in front of you. messy hair, his glasses back on, still wearing the wardrobe outfit without the suit jacket.
"harry," you greet him, smiling like an idiot. he smiles back. "[y/n], hey, um…" he takes a breath, seeming a bit nervous. "sorry i just dashed, i hate those contacts and had to put these back on," he jiggles the frames of his glasses from the the side, making you giggle. "well, i guess i can forgive you. only because i'm pro-glasses," you say with a smirk.
harry seems so nervous, he's constantly shifting his weight and his smile isn't reaching his eyes.
"well, um, i just wanted to say, y'know, thank you for trusting me today…i know it wasn't easy but you did really, really well," his smile is so sweet, and his eyes are incredibly kind. you swear he's trying to get you to swoon.
"thank you, harry, but you made it incredibly easy to trust you…" you say with a small smile. "and it went a lot better than i was expecting." you say with a laugh.
harry cracks a smile. "yeah, same here. i actually wouldn't have minded it at all minus the cameras and audience." harry tries to joke with you, but his nerves are still overpowering his voice. is he joking, or does he feel the same way you felt shooting that scene?
smirking, you lean on the doorway of your dressing room. "i don't know, part of me thinks the audience part is kinda hot…mostly terrifying and vomit-inducing, but…" you joke back with him. he tries to laugh with you but he looks a little shocked by your statement.
"but, i agree. i didn't mind it at all." you say with a tone of seduction. you try to analyze harry to understand how he's feeling, what he's thinking, and why he's so nervous to be talking to you after everything you just did. yeah, maybe you shouldn't be playfully flirting with a coworker, but he started it…
there's a few moments of silence between you exchanging nervous glances with each other. you somewhat enjoy watching harry squirm like this under your gaze, after being so calm and collected on set it's pretty funny to see him fall apart with just you and him.
"uh, look…" harry finally breaks the silence, looking at the ground before making resistant eye contact. "[y/n], i know i said i was a big fan, um…" he's sweating, and he can't stop shifting his weight.
"but, i was just wondering, since, y'know, now we work together for a bit, maybe, um…"
god. he's so cute. is he really nervous to ask you to hang out after having practically having sex on camera? you can't take it anymore. you don't care if you're working together, you need him.
you grab harry and pull him into your dressing room, closing the door and locking it before turning to him and practically forcing him into a kiss.
harry's a bit stunned, quite a bit, but he quickly begins kissing back. the performance kiss was nothing compared to this. he's somehow an even better kisser when it's just the two of you. 
this time, you're pushing harry into the wall next to the door. you smile up at him between making out. "this feels familiar." you say with a smirk. harry nervously lets out a laugh before immediately pulling you back in for the kiss.
the tension that's been built between you guys for the last 3 hours is finally being released, your hands exploring as you slowly take off the other's clothes. unlike the acting you were just doing, you're both gentle with each other and take your time to carefully take the other's clothes off. you're admiring harry's body as his shirt comes off, throwing it to the side. you're mesmerized by his neck and shoulders.
harry takes a moment to admire you, his hand on your cheek as he moves a strand of hair out of your face. your heart couldn't have been beating louder. something about these small, intimate moments with him between the heavy kissing and touching actually makes you more nervous. it was one thing to just be physically attracted to him, but the soft kiss he gave you during the break between filming and now this gentle moment between making out had your mind racing with questions but wanting nothing more than to just keep going.
"harry…" you sigh, examining his face while he looks down at you. "[y/n]...this is like a dream come true…" he whispers softly. the genuine look in his eye has your stomach twisting knots. "i never thought an on-screen kiss could feel like that…" you respond just as quietly.
his smile's real this time, no nerves, no looking away, just admiring you with the most loving smile. "don't tell robert, but, um, i wasn't acting out there. that was harry kissing [y/n]," harry tells you with a chuckle. you feel yourself smiling like an idiot and suppress your laugh. "yeah, i could tell," you say with a smirk.
harry pulls you in to kiss again, and your hands go to his chest. standing on your toes, you push your body further into his, moaning into harry's mouth as his hands find their way to your waist and hold onto you firmly.
"fuck," he practically whimpers, his hands sliding down your hips and eventually to your ass. he squeezes it roughly and causes you to gasp. "i want you." he states simply, staring you in the eyes again. "i don't care if we get in trouble, i'll take the fall. i just, fuck, i need you [y/n], please…" harry breathlessly begs you, his hands making the way under your shirt and up your back.
"we're just working on our chemistry," you respond, helping him pull off your shirt. he groans at your mutual eagerness and his lips attach to your neck and chest, leaving plenty of bite marks as you tangle your hands in harry's fringe again.
letting moans slip out of your mouth without a second thought, your body is responding to harry like it never has with anyone before. everything you've done with someone before him has felt so mild and mechanical, but harry was so naturally passionate with you. you're not sure if it's because he's always been attracted to you or if you just really, really find yourself attracted to him…
eventually harry's lips find your own again, and his hands begin to explore. he runs his fingers over your bra straps as he traces your back, sending shivers all over your skin. smiling into the kiss, he's loving the effect he has on you. harry slowly unclasped your bra and you let it fall to the floor, his hands already replacing it as he massages your tits.
your hands make their way down to his pants, pulling at the waistband only slightly before harry immediately unbuttons them for you, helping you push them before he separates the kiss and kicks off his pants entirely. you steal a glance down and see his erection. "i've had this since that first kiss, need you so bad" harry's voice rumbles.
you take your pants off as well, with harry's assistance, and he pulls at the waistband of your panties. "fuck, everything about you is so beautiful," harry admits before attaching his lips to yours sloppily. the kissing becomes needy, messy, and secondary to you groping each other roughly.
harry spins you around so you're now against the wall as he begins kissing down your body. the cold wall makes your skin shiver again, the visual of harry slowly getting to his knees in front of you making your mind spin.
he looks up at you for just a second above his glasses and your heart can barely take it, how can someone be so adorable yet so incredibly sexy and seductive at the same time?
eventually harry's mouth finds its way to your panties, softly kissing your pussy through them as you squirm under his touch. quiet whimpering and frustrated hip thrusts let harry know you need more, and he slowly pulls the fabric to the side.
you're in a complete state of ecstasy watching harry eat you out from above. his eyes are softly closed as he gets lost in licking and sucking on your clit. his hands go to your legs as he lifts one of your thighs over his shoulder, getting a better angle.
you're full on moaning now, not afraid to let harry know just how good he's making you feel. you can't remember a time where someone was this eager to eat your pussy, solely giving you pleasure. you can feel yourself getting wetter against harry's lips and blush at just how desperately your body's craving him.
"harry, fuck," you whimper, your hands returning to his hair as you begin to slowly grind down onto his face. harry is completely accepting of this, moaning as you stuff his face further into you. his moans send shockwaves through your body, gasping as you feel the tension building in your body.
harry looks up at you, his eyes full of lust and barely open as he continues to make out with your pussy. you can hardly stand the erotic sight before you as he watches your body react so well to him.
"fuck, harry, keep looking at me like that and i'm gonna cum," you teasingly scold him. you can see the smile in his eyes as he backs away, his chin and lips soaking wet. your body goes cold, missing his touch, and your climax fades away.
he quickly wipes his face with his hand before standing up and going back in to kiss you. you moan as the taste and smell of you is all over him. his hands go to your weakening legs and he lifts you up without breaking a sweat. you gasp and look down, seeing he already took off his boxers as he holds you against the wall. you look back in his eyes and they're so much darker than you remember, the bright green now a haunting emerald as he searches yours.
"i need you," he growls, the complete opposite of his usually gentle nature. you can't hold back your moan, something about his desperation makes you crave him so badly. you've never felt so wanted or loved by a partner.
"need you," is all you can say before you kiss him again, tongues instantly entangled. he takes this chance to use one hand to stroke himself, your legs wrapped around his body as he continues to hold you against the wall. 
as harry's slowly pushing into you, your body envelopes him and embraces the pleasure. he's slowly thrusting up into you, his eyes completely fixated on your face as you fall into bliss. you can't get the words out, but harry feels so perfect inside of you. it's everything you've been wanting since he gave you that loving kiss on set.
harry's pace stays slow and torturous until he begins groaning and thrusting more desperately. "holy fuck, [y/n], you feel so fucking good," harry's head falls into your chest, his heavy breaths hitting your skin. the only sound you can make are your pathetic whimpers, your head thrown back against the wall.
harry starts sweating as he holds you against the wall, his legs getting weaker along with his arms. despite that, his thrusts become quicker and more hungry as his hand finds its way to your pussy. your whimpers turn into moans as harry brings you closer to your orgasm. his head lifts to look at you as you reconnect your lips, forcing your tongue in his mouth.
you can feel that knot in your stomach tightening, your hands finding harry's shoulders for something to hold onto. his exasperated breaths and gasps against your lips only turn you on even more. even at his weakest moment he's doing everything possible to make sure your pleasure and comfort comes first. 
"harry, harry, i'm gonna cum," you say between kissing, your arms wrapping around his neck. "please, baby, please," harry groans eagerly, pushing your body further into the wall and thrusting even deeper into you. you can barely wait a moment before letting yourself go, burying your head into harry's neck as you call his name. harry's breathing is completely ragged as you squeeze around his cock, loving the way your body feels against his as you begin shaking.
it's not long into your climax that harry slows down, his hips stuttering before pulling out at the last second and letting his cum drip to the floor, his head falling into your shoulder as well.
you let yourself down from harry's grasp, your legs barely able to keep you up. harry steadies you, chuckling, his reassuring hands on your arms. "okay?" he asks breathlessly. you look up at him, his face is completely drenched and flushed as he stares at you lovingly. "yeah, fine," you say with a smile, using the wall to balance yourself.
you and harry stare at each other for a bit before going in to kiss each other again. it feels so natural, like you've been kissing him your whole life. the butterflies come rushing back. even after having sex with harry you still feel so attracted to him in a nervous, crush-like way.
after getting dressed harry offers his phone to you, asking for your number. you set your contact's name to your character's in the movie, and it leaves harry blushing. he's smiling at you for just a moment before he envelopes you in a hug. warm, comforting, and completely safe, you lean into his touch and don't want to let go.
with some flirtatious remarks and a promise to meet up tomorrow for a date, harry's leaving your dressing room in a barely buttoned up shirt and messy hair. you watch him disappear down the hall before closing your door, hardly able to believe you're already so smitten with the costar you only met earlier that day.
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